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■■:■  ■n'  -ff  .f 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California, 

GIF^T    OK 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
t^ccessions  No.  ^^{J (riy      Class  No. 


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V,/^ 


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'^vv;^^>^iiV>-  ^v 


MISCELLANEOUS 


S  E  E  M  0  N  S. 


BY  THK 

REV.  SYDNEY  SMITH,  A.M., 

LATE  FELLOW  OF  NEW  COLLEGE,  OXFORD  ;  RECTOR  OF  FOSTON,  IN  YORKSHIRE; 

PREACHER  AT  THE  FOUNDLING,  AND  AT  BERKELEY, 

AND  FITZROY  CHAPELS. 


COMPLETE   IN  ONE  VOLUME 


PHILADELPHIA: 

CAREY    AND    HART 

1846. 


jrW6r 


PHILADELPHIA  '. 

T.  K.  &  P.  G.  COLLINS, 

PRINTERS. 


CONTENTS 


On  Repentance,  Part  I. 
On  Repentance,  Part  II. 
On  Truth  .  .  .  . 

On  the  Education  of  the  Poor  - 
On  the  Importance  of  Public  Worship 
On  the  Fast  Day,  Feb.  28,  1808 
On  the  Utility  of  meditating  on  Death 
For  the  Blind     -  -  -  - 

On  Duty  to  Parents 
On  the  Government  of  the  Heart 
On  Good  Friday 

On  the  Judgments  we  form  of  Others   ■ 
Oft  the  Love  of  our  Country 
On  Skepticism  -  -  -  . 

The  Poor  Magdalene     - 
Upon  the  best  Mode  of  Charity 
On  Methodism  -  -  -  . 

On  Riches  -  -  -  . 

On  Swearing      -  -  -  . 

On  Meekness     -  -  -  . 

..On  the  Mode  of  passing  the  Sabbath 
On  the  Errors  of  Youth 
On  Self-Examination 
On  Dissipation  -  -  -  . 

On  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul  - 
On  Temptation,  Part  I. 
On  Temptation,  Part  II. 


PAOl 

13 

20 

27 

33 

40 

47 

64 

60 

66 

72 

79 

85 

91 

101 

109 

116 

122 

130 

137 

142 

148 

154 

161 

168 

175 

181 

187 


IV  CONTENTS. 

PAOS 

For  the  Humane  Society  -  -  -  -  -  193 
On  the  Effects  which  Christianity  ought  to  produce  upon 

Manners     -------  200 

For  the  Swiss    -------  207 

On  Toleration    -------  215 

On  Vanity          -            -            .            -            .            -            -  223 

On  Suicide         - -  229 

On  Revenge       -------  236 

On  the  Treatment  of  Servants  -----  242 

On  Men  of  the  World    ------  245 

On  the  Folly  of  being  ashamed  of  Religion     -            -            -  257 

On  Invasion       -------  263 

Upon  the  special  Interference  of  Providence    -            -            -  272 

On  True  Religion           -            -            -            -            -            -  276 

On  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul             -            -            -            -  283 

On  the  Pleasures  of  Old  Age    -            -            -            -            -  290 

On  the  Effects  which  the  Tumultuous  Life,  passed  in  great 

Cities,  produces  upon  the  Moral  and  Religious  Character  296 

On  the  Character  and  Genius  of  the  Christian  Religion           -  301 

For  the  Scotch  Lying-in  Hospital          -            -            -            -  306 

On  the  Pleasures  of  Religion    -            -            -            -            -  313 

Upon  Religious  Education         -----  320 

On  the  Use  and  Abuse  of  the  World    -            -            -            -  327 

On  the  Resurrection      ------  333 

On  Seduction    -            -            -            -            -            -            -  339 

A  Fragment  on  the  Irish  Roman  Catholic  Church        -           -  347 


:Y 


SERMON  I. 

ON   REPENTANCE. 
PART  I. 

In  those  days  came  John  the  Baptist,  preaching  in  the  wilderness  of  Judea, 
and  saying,  repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand. — Matthew 

in.  VERSE   1. 

In  treating  of  the  duty  of  repentance  we  must  particularize 
those  signs  which  are  to  be  considered  as  characteristic  of  a 
repentance  efficacious  to  salvation ;  and  I  think  we  may  say, 
that  such  repentance  should  be  sincere,  timely,  continuous, 
and  just. 

First.  The  greatest  of  all  follies  is  a  mockery  of  God  by 
insincere  repentance,  by  that  fluctuation  between  sin,  and 
sorrow,  resolution  and  infringement, — by  that  endless  circle 
of  penitence,  and  crime,  which  they  tread,  who  know  virtue 
only  by  its  labours,  and  extract  nothing  from  guilt  but  re- 
morse. The  first  stage  of  repentance  is  in  every  man's 
power,  and  almost  in  every  man's  practice.  If  sighs  and 
tears  could  purchase  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  and  a  sad  face 
expiate  a  wicked  life,  hardness  of  heart  would  indeed  be 
weakness  of  understanding:  but,  though  God  is  merciful,  he 
is  not  fallible,  nor  will  he  take  the  odour  of  sacrifices,  or  the 
incense  of  words,  in  the  lieu  of  a  solid,  laborious  virtue.  In 
the  Christian  religion  there  is  no  compensation,  no  arrange- 
ment, no  shifting,  no  fluctuation,  no  dalliance  with  duties,  no 
deference  to  darling  vices  :  if  the  eye  offends  us,  we  must 
pluck  it  out;  if  the  hand  is  sinful,  we  must  cut  it  off*. — Better 
to  merit  heaven  by  every  suffering,  than  eternal  punishment 
by  every  gratification. 

We  may  see,  by  this  striking  passage,  the  absolute  neces- 
sity of  abandoning  the  vice,  before  repentance  can  be  effec- 
2 


14  ON  REPENTANCE. 

tual  to  salvation.  Our  blessed  Saviour  departs  from  his  usual 
mildness  of  speech;  he  does  not  say,  if  thine  eye  is  evil 
anoint  it ;  if  thine  hand  is  diseased  heal  it ;  but  pluck  it  out, 
cut  it  off,  tear  it  from  thee ;  he  requires  that  a  man  should 
rise  above  himself ;  that  the  thought  of  heaven  should  breathe 
into  him  a  moral  fortitude ;  that  he  should  be  great  in  pur- 
pose, rapid  in  action,  unshaken  in  constancy ;  that  he  should 
tear  out  his  ambition,  his  revenge,  his  avarice,  and  all  the 
harlot  passions  he  has  wooed,  and  trample  them  beneath  his 
feet ;  that  he  should  feel  that  noble  persuasion  which  the 
great  apostle  felt, — that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  princi- 
palities, nor  powers,  should  separate  him  from  the  love  of 
God. 

Not  that  our  blessed  Saviour  intends  to  say,  by  the  ex- 
pressions I  have  quoted,  that  the  only  mode  of  effecting  a 
change  is  by  such  sudden,  and  vigorous  resolutions ;  but  that, 
where  sudden  and  vigorous  resolutions  are  necessary,  any 
violence  done  to  habit,  any  pain  endured  by  depriving  our- 
selves of  enjoyments  to  which  we  have  been  accustomed,  is 
not  for  an  instant  to  be  weighed  against  the  danger  of  retain- 
ing the  sin>  or  the  advantage  of  abjuring  it.  A  certain  por- 
tion of  time,  indeed,  and  a  certain  gradation  in  improvement, 
must  be  allowed  to  the  infirmities  of  our  nature ;  and  that 
repentance  is  not  unacceptable  to  God  where  there  is  progress 
in  righteousness.  Whichever  of  us  all  can  look  back  at  the 
time  past  with  the  pleasing  certainty  that  he  has  acquired  a 
greater  power  over  any  one  bad  passion ;  that  his  virtuous 
resolutions  are  more  constantly  observed;  that  the  habit  of 
doing  good,  and  saying  good,  and  thinking  good,  are  growing 
stronger  and  stronger  in  his  heart ; — the  repentance  of  that 
man  is  a  repentance  which  leads  to  salvation,  and  he  is  be- 
coming more  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  as  he  approaches 
nearer  to  it. 

Smcere  repentance  consists  not  only  in  abstaining,  but  in 
justice,  in  making  restitution,  or  compensation  for  the  injuries 
we  have  committed  against  our  fellow-creatures.  These  are 
duties  from  which  no  lapse  of  time,  and  hardly  any  alteration  of 
circumstances,  can  ever  exempt  us.  It  is  never  too  late  to  do 
justice  ;  if  we  die  without  doing  it,  the  gates  of  God's  mercy 
are  shut  against  us,  and  we  can  have  no  benefit  from  the 
cross  of  Christ.  If  seas  and  mountains  separate  us  from  the 
being  we  have  injured,  we  should  pass  over  mountains  and 
seas  to  find  him ;  to  beg  his  prayers  to  God,  and  to  restore  to 


ON  REPENTANCE.  IS 

him  wine,  and  oil,  and  vineyards,  and  olive  yards,  tenfold  for 
all  we  have  taken.  If  the  grave  hides  him  from  us,  we  should 
visit  his  children's  children  with  blessings,  and  be  thankful 
that  one  vestige  of  his  race  existed  upon  the  earth.  No  man 
can  know  rest,  or  peace,  while  there  remains  in  his  heart  the 
remembrance  of  a  crime  for  which  he  has  made  no  atone- 
ment. If  you  have  taken  aught  of  any  man,  give  it  back ; 
and,  when  it  is  gone,  your  soul  will  be  at  ease. — If  you  have 
done  secret  wrong  to  his  name,  come  out  to  the  light  of  day, 
and  restore  innocence  to  the  dignity  it  has  lost.  Shame  is 
bad,  and  infamy  is  bad,  and  blushes  are  bad ;  but  the  wrath 
of  God  is  worse  than  all  these ; — .it  is  more  bitter  than  the 
curses  of  a  nation,  and  fiercer  than  an  army  with  banners. 

If  the  danger  of  not  restoring  should  alarm  us,  there  is 
something  in  the  pleasure  of  restitution  which  may  allure  us  ; 
it  eases  our  shoulders  from  the  burthen  of  sin,  it  appeases  the 
restless  anger  of  conscience,  and  renders  the  mind  cheerful 
and  serene ;— if  it  takes  away  the  stalled  ox,  it  dissipates 
hatred;  if  it  leaves  the  dinner  of  herbs,  they  are  seasoned 
with  content.  Did  any  man,  who  had  overcome  the  first 
difficulty  of  doing  justice,  ever  repent  of  the  eflx)rt  he  had 
made  ? — Did  he  ever  say,  my  feelings  of  guilt  were  better 
than  my  feelings  of  innocence — I  am  disappointed  by  right- 
eousness, and  I  wish  to  reclaim  the  wages  of  sin  which  I 
have  unadvisedly  refunded  ?  Death,  says  the  son  of  Sirach, 
is  terrible  to  him  who  lives  at  ease  in  his  possessions ;  but 
death  is  tenfold  more  terrible  to  him  who  lives  in  misery 
amid  his  possessions,  with  the  consciousness  that  he  ought 
never  to  have  enjoyed  them ;  that,  year  after  year,  he  has 
been  reaping  the  fruits  of  injustice  ;  that  the  time  is  now  gone 
by  in  which  he  might  have  pacified  both  God  and  man ;  and 
that  nothing  remains  but  a  sorrow  which  no  repentance  can 
prevent,  and  which  no  time  can  cure. 

If  restitution  is  impossible,  compensation  is  almost  always 
in  our  power, — a  compensation  proportioned  to  our  means. 
There  is  hardly  any  man  so  intrenched  in  happiness  that  he 
is  utterly  inaccessible  to  acts  of  kindness.  Any  signs  of  hum- 
ble benevolence,  any  real  contrition  of  the  heart,  towards  an 
injured  person,  God  will  accept ;  if  it  is  the  only  compen- 
sation which  accident  enables  us  to  make. — The  sin  which 
God  never  will  forgive,  is  that  cold  and  barren  penitence 
which  is  only  sorrowful  because  it  cannot  reconcile  the  feel- 
ings of  virtue  with  the  profits  of  crime.      I  allow  that  it  is 


n 


ON  REPENTANCE. 


difficult  to  do  justice,  that  it  is  difficult  to  compensate,  and 
difficult  to  restore  ;  but  one  great  effort  is  less  costly  than  a 
-  thousand  moments  of  remorse  ; — it  is  better  to  do  that  violence 
to  your  feelings,  which  every  subsequent  moment  will  convert 
into  a  more  powerful  source  of  happiness,  than  to  retain  any 
object  of  your  desire,  which  every  moment  will  convert  into 
a  more  powerful  cause  of  reproach. — The  fruits  of  fraud  and 
injustice  are  yours  as  a  diseased  limb  is  yours,  for  pain  and 
for  weakness,  not  for  enjoyment :  health  does  not  make  it  an 
auxiliary ;  but  adhesion  makes  it  a  burden.  If  the  life  which 
God  gave  has  left  it,  my  hand  is  no  hand  to  me  ;  and  if  riches, 
and  honour,  and  power,  and  every  earthly  blessing,  are  not 
founded  upon  righteousness,  which  is  their  health,  and  their 
life,  they  are  not  blessings,  but  burthen,  and  anguish,  and 
disease,  and  death. 

I  have,  hitherto,  principally  insisted  upon  the  necessity  of 
justice  as  an  ingredient  of  sincere  repentance ;  but  there  can 
be  no  very  sincere  repentance  without  sorrow. — Indeed,  un- 
less the  evils  and  apprehensions  to  which  sin  gives  birth, 
are  so  powerfully  impressed  upon  the  mind  as  to  fill  it  with 
sadness,  there  is  httle  security  for  that  part  of  repentance 
which  consists  in  action. — Much  is  due,  also,  to  the  offended 
Majesty  of  Heaven ;  we  must  not  confess  our  impurities  to 
God  with  an  unshaken  spirit ;  we  must  not  lift  up  an  un- 
daunted face  towards  his  throne,  and  breathe  out  the  sad 
story  of  our  lives  in  the  firm  accents  of  a  fearless  voice. 
"  The  publican,  standing  afar  off,  would  not  so  much  as  lift 
up  his  eyes  to  Heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God 
he  merciful  to  me  a  sinner. ^^I  tell  you  this  man  went  down 
to  his  house  justified  rather  than  the  other, "^^ 

Repentance  must  not  only  be  sincere  and  just,  but  it  must 
be  timely ; — it  must  take  place  at  such  a  period  as  will  enable 
US  to  make  a  sohd,  real  sacrifice  of  unlawful  enjoyment  to  a 
sense  of  Christian  duty.  Satiety  is  often  mistaken  for  re- 
pentance,and  many  give  up  the  offence,  when  they  have  lost  all 
appetite  for  its  commission ; — change  of  body  is  mistaken  for 
change  of  mind,  and  he  who  quits  a  vice,  become  unnatural 
X  to  his  period  of  life,  deems  himself  a  progressive  penitent ; 
and  believes  he  is  receding  from  pleasure,  because  pleasure 
is  receding  from  him. 

To  repent  of  passions,  when  passions  are  sweet  and  strong, 
has  the  merit  of  virtue,  because  it  has  the  difficulty;  to  oppose 
languor,  to  chain  down  inertness  ;  and  to  vanquish  imbecility. 


ON  REPENTANCE. 


'^ 


is  to  offer  to  the  Lord  our  God  that  which  costs  us  nothing; 
and  to  claim  the  kingdom  of  heaven  for  not  doing  that  which 
we  cannot  do. — Truiy  blessed  is  he  who  arrests  himself  in 
the  middle  career  of  pleasure,  while  he  has  yet  numbered  but 
few  days,  and  a  fair  portion  of  life  is  still  before  him.  God 
loveth  the  hoary  hairs  of  the  righteous  ;  but  when  they  who 
are  far  from  the  grave,  when  the  young,  the  beautiful,  and 
the  strong,  turn  to  the  Lord  their  God  in  weeping,  in  fasting, 
and  repentance,  then  is  the  great  victory  of  Christ  over  sin ; 
then,  truly,  are  the  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  forgotten; 
and  the  joy  in  heaven  is  exceeding  great.  Seriousness,  in 
old  age,  we  in  some  degree  attribute  to  bodily  causes ;  the 
early  and  rational  repentance  of  a  young  person,  disgusted 
with  the  first  aspect  of  sin,  is  the  most  genuine  and  beautiful 
form  of  repentance ;  it  affords  us  the  example  of  temptation 
resisted  when  it  is  the  strongest,  apology  rejected  when  it  is 
the  most  natural,  and  the  laws  of  religion  respected,  when  the 
chance  of  atoning  for  their  violation  is  the  most  complete. 
No  exception  from  the  common  course  of  passions  can  be 
more  beautiful,  no  goodness  more  unequivocal,  more  useful 
to  man  as  an  example,  and  more  grateful  to  God  as  a  sacrifice. 

If  there  be  gradations  in  the  rewards  we  are  to  receive 
hereafter,  and  many  mansions  in  the  house  of  the  Father,  to 
what  height  of  excellence  will  he  arrive,  and  to  what  emi- 
nence of  reward  will  he  attain,  who  sees  before  him  half  a 
life  of  progressive  improvement  ?  The  work  of  righteousness 
begins  with  the  dawn  of  reason,  to  terminate  in  the  darkness 
of  death  ;  and  the  advanced  point  at  which  we  are  found,  at 
the  conclusion  of  our  labours,  must,  of  course,  depend  on  the 
period  at  which  they  have  commenced,  and  the  vigour  with 
which  they  have  been  prosecuted.  Any  repentance  is  better 
than  a  lasting  obstinacy  in  sin ;  but  it  is  young  repentance 
which  sanctifies  an  human  soul  here  upon  earth,  which 
cleanses  it  from  the  passions  of  the  flesh,  and  fills  it  full  of 
sweet,  holy,  everlasting  godliness.  If  the  feeble  efforts  of 
old  age  are  all  we  can  give  up  to  the  purification  of  the  soul, 
death  will  overtake  us  labouring  and  toiling  at  the  very  basis 
of  the  eminence  ;  it  ought  to  overtake  us  near  the  summit, 
standing  on  the  very  confines  of  the  first  and  the  latter  world  ; 
calm,  tranquil,  clear  of  every  earthly  feeling,  and  waiting  for 
the  hour  of  God,  when  he  will  call  us  to  the  dwelHngs  of 
peace. 

If  these  observations  upon  the  necessity  of  a  timely  repent-' 

2* 


18  ON  REPENTANCE. 

ance  be  true,  it  follows,  of  course,  that  what  is  commonly 
termed  a  death-bed  repentance,  can  be  of  no  avail  to  the  at- 
tainment of  immortal  salvation.  Indeed,  if  we  were  not  aware 
of  what  a  fallacious  reasoner  vice  is,  we  should  be  astonished 
that  such  an  absurdity  should  enter  into  the  mind  of  man  ;  as  if 
the  sin  which  begins  in  youth,  which  is  matured  in  manhood, 
which  is  cherished  in  old  age,  which  destroys  the  moral  or- 
der of  the  universe,  infringes  the  clear  mandates  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  scatters  sorrow  and  misery  throughout  the  world, 
can  be  atoned  for  by  the  lamentations  of  a  being  who  never 
thought  of  deploring  his  sins  till  he  had  lost  all  power  of  en- 
joying them.  He  has  seen,  unmoved,  for  threescore  years, 
misfortune,  evil,  and  death :  he  has  listened,  in  vain,  to  the 
voice  of  moralists,  and  to  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel ;  and, 
in  a  moment  when  the  spectre  of  death  starts  up  before  him, 
he  is  righteous :  What  will  he  be  if  that  spectre  vanish 
again  ?  What  will  he  be  if  God  gives  him  back  his  life  ?  Is 
there  any  certainty  that  he  will  use  that  life  for  the  glory  of 
his  maker  ? — Is  there  any  certainty  that  he  will  not  forget 
God  in  health  again,  as  he  has  forgotten  him  before  ?  That 
he  will  not  require  the  same  lassitude,  the  same  anguish,  and 
the  same  distress,  to  call  him  to  the  care  of  salvation,  which 
have  awakened  in  him  before  a  momentary  feeling  of  reli- 
gion ?  Such  repentance  can  be  nothing  worth  ;  if  it  is  effec- 
tual to  salvation,  all  other  repentance  is  superfluous  to  salva- 
tion. Sin  is  made  co-extensive  with  life;  every  motive  to 
righteousness  is  at  an  end  ;  and  a  little  muttering  of  religion, 
a  few  moments  before  death,  is  the  sum  of  piety,  the  defini- 
tion of  virtue,  and  the  passport  to  Heaven. 

If  a  death-bed  repentance  is  enough,  who  would  fear  God 
in  the  days  of  their  youth,  and  endure  the  greater  burthen 
when  a  lesser  weight  would  suffice  ?  "  My  hour  is  not  yet 
come  ;  I  have  many  years  before  me  in  which  I  may  forget 
my  God,  and  follow  the  devices  of  my  heart ; — it  will  suffice 
if  I  weep,  and  fast,  and  pray,  in  the  days  when  I  am  well- 
stricken  in  years ; — let  those  praise  God  who  are  drawing 
near  unto  him  ;  I  will  be  h^ppy  and  sensual  while  I  am  young ; 
and  reserve  the  gloon^  of  religion  for  sickness  and  old  age." 
Such  is  the  state  of  principles  lyhich  the  doctrine  of  a  death- 
bed repentance  naturally  produces  ;  it  is  a  doctrine  founded 
upon  convenience,  not  upon  truth ;  it  makes  the  duty  of  re? 
pentance  more  easy ;  but  it  makes  it  utterly  useless ; — it  is 
calculated  to  reconcile  every  one  to  the  precepts  qf  the  Gqs- 


ON  REPENTANCE.  19 

pel ;  and  to  frustrate  every  purpose  for  which  the  Gospel  was 
given  to  mankind. 

This  subject  of  repentance  is  of  such  importance,  and  such 
extent,  that  I  must  reserve  what  more  I  have  to  say  upon  it 
to  another  time  ;  and  I  shall  be  satisfied,  at  present,  with  the 
endeavour  I  have  made,  to  impress  upon  this  congregation 
the  necessity  that  repentance  should  be  sincere,  early,  and 
just;  that  the  resolution  which  gives  it  birth,  should  be  strong 
enough  to  prevent  relapse  ;  that  it  should  be  soon  enough  to 
make  the  sacrifice  to  the  religion  of  Christ  real  and  valuable  ; 
and  that  it  should  inspire  that  spirit  of  restitution,  or  compen- 
sation, which  is  the  best  evidence  to  prove  that  our  repent- 
ance is  sincere,  and  the  best  means  to  ascertain  that  it  is  use- 
ful. It  was  to  teach  these  truths  that  the  warning  voice  was 
first  heard  in  the  wilderness ;  it  was  to  rouse,  and  it  was  to 
save,  that  the  Baptist  spoke  in  the  solemn  stillness  of  the 
forest,  and  said, — That  the  time  was  short, — that  the  day 
was  coming, — that  the  fan  would  soon  drive  the  chaff  on  the 
floor, — that  one  was  near  at  hand,  the  hem  of  whose  gar- 
ment he  dare  not  touch,  nor  loose  the  latchet  of  his  shoe. 
My  brethren,  the  time  is  still  short, — the  day  is  still  coming, 
— the  fan  is  still  ready  for  the  chafl^,^and  he  is  not  far  off, 
whose  garment  the  prophet  dare  not  touch,  nor  loose  the 
latchet  of  his  shoe. — Remember,  then,  the  frailty  of  human 
life, — remember  the  bitterness  of  death, — listen  to  the  warn- 
ing voice, — begin,  continue,  repent,  for  the  Kingdom  of  Hea- 
ven is  at  hand. 


'i,.^i^^;K9 


'w- 


SEEM  ON   II. 

ON    REPENTANCE. 
PART  II.  ' 

In  those  days  came  John  the  Baptist,  preaching  in  the  wilderness  of  Judea, 
and  saying,  repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand. — ^Matthew 

III.  VERSE  1. 

In  my  last  discourse  upon  this  subject,  I  endeavoured  to 
show  that  a  spirit  of  justice  and  sincerity,  proved  by  absti- 
nence from  the  sin,  was  necessary  to  repentance ;  and  that 
repentance,  to  be  efficacious  to  salvation,  should  be  begun  at 
an  early  period. 

After  this  endeavour  to  show  what  is  meant  by  a  Christian 
repentance,  I  shall  proceed  to  state  those  causes  from  which 
repentance  commonly  originates,  and  those  means  by  which 
it  may  be  fertilized  into  Christian  righteousness.  The  use 
of  this  will  be,  that,  by  impressing  on  our  minds  those  cir- 
cumstances from  which  amendment  usually  proceeds,  we 
shall  labour  to  produce  them,  if  they  are  events  within  our 
own  power,  and  cherish  them  as  the  choicest  gifts  of  God,  if 
they  are  not. 

Repentance  in  after-life,  most  commonly,  will  be  found  to 
proceed  from  a  good,  moral,  and  religious  education,  in  youth. 
When  once  the  rules  of  the  Gospel  are  inculcated  in  child- 
hood, and  its  beautiful  morality  firmly  fixed  in  the  mind,  we 
are  not  to  consider  them  as  lost,  because  they  are  not  always 
practised  in  the  season  of  levity  and  passion ; — they  are  best 
seen  in  their  revival,  after  a  long  suspense,  when  they  scare 
the  voluptuary  from  his  revels,  when  they  make  the  thought- 
less think,  and  the  bold  tremble,  and  the  godless  pray ;  when 
the  seed,  which  seemed  dead,  shoots  forth  into  an  harvest ; 


ON  REPENTANCE.  21 

when  the  dry  wood  becomes  green  with  life,  and  glorious 
with  increase. 

Providence  has  provided  a  source  of  repentance,  in  those 
events  which  warn  us  of  the  vanity  of  the  world,  and  admo- 
nish us  to  prepare  for  that  kingdom  which  is  near  at  hand : 
— to  watch  over  the  gradual  waste  of  life  ;  to  minister  to  the 
last  sickness  ;  to  mourn  over  friends  that  perish,  and  children 
that  are  snatched  away  ; — these  things  teach  us  all  to  repent ; 
they  are  lessons  to  which  every  ear  is  open,  and  by  which 
all  hearts  are  impressed.  We  remember  how  probable  it  is 
that  every  succeeding  year  will  be  marked  by  some  fresh 
loss; — that  parent,  and  husband,  and  child,  and  friend,  may 
all  perish  away,  and  leave  us  a  wreck  of  time  in  the  feeble 
solitude  of  age.  Then  it  is  that  the  views  we  take  of  human 
life  are  serious  and  solemn;  then  we  feel  that  godliness  is 
the  one  thing  stable,  and  unshaken  by  time  and  chance  ;  then 
we  listen  to  the  warning  voice,  which  cries, — Repent  ye^for 
the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand. 

In  truth,  the  warnings  to  repentance  are  not  few ;  such  are 
the  adverse  blows  of  fortune, — sudden  poverty,  disappointed 
ambition,  any  circumstance  which,  by  weakening  our  de- 
pendence upon  outward  objects,  and  by  driving  us  to  seek 
for  comfort  and  support  from  our  inward  feelings,  teaches  us 
to  derive  our  happiness  from  its  pure  and  legitimate  source. 

The  feelings  of  bodily  decay  often  lead  to  repentance;  it 
happens,  fortunately  for  man,  that  he  is  not  called  out  of  the 
world  in  the  vigour  of  health,  not  by  a  sudden  annihilation, 
but  by  a  gradual  destruction  of  his  being;  every  blunted 
sense,  and  every  injured  organ,  admonish  him  that  it  is 
drawing  near ;  and,  when  it  does  come,  death  has  only  the 
shadow  of  a  man  to  subdue.  Listen,  then,  to  these  warnings 
of  a  merciful  God  ;— when  the  ear  is  slow  to  receive  sounds, 
■ — when  the  eye  has  lessened  its  range, — when  the  nerve 
trembles, — when  the  red  blood  of  youth  and  strength  is  gone, 
— when  the  proud  body  of  man  is  bent  down, — listen  to  these 
warnings  of  a  merciful  God ;  sanctify  the  frail  and  departing 
flesh.  Repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  indeed  at 
hand. 

Providence  has  provided  a  source  of  repentance  in  those 
great  events  which  astonish  the  world,  and  some  share  of 
good  springs  up  from  the  very  midst  of  devastation. — When 
the  judgments  of  God  are  out  upon  the  earth — when  a  pesti- 
lence rages — when  a  conqueror  exterminates, — the  thoughts 


33  ON  REPENTANCE. 

of  men  become  solemn,  and  every  countenance  gathers  its 
portion  of  sorrow ; — then,  no  inan  doubts  of  the  shortness  of 
life,  when  he  beholds  death  making  his  meal,  not  of  one,  or 
two,  but  of  thousands,  and  tens  of  thousands; — then,  no  man 
is  unmindful  of  human  weakness,  when  he  sees  how  the 
fairest  creations  are  broken  into  dust ;— then,  all  feel  the  vanity 
of  human  wishes,  and  human  designs,  when  they  behold  the 
arts,  the  arms,  the  industry  of  nations,  overwhelmed  by  an 
omnipotent  destroyer,  and  their  heritage  tost  to  the  children 
of  blood. 

Such  are  the  times  and  seasons  in  which  we  now  hve, 
when  every  year  involves  some  ancient  empire  in  destruction, 
and  the  evils  of  unprincipled  ambition  are  let  loose  upon 
mankind.  That  the  terror  to  which  such  times  give  birth 
may  be  dissipated,  we  must  all  sincerely  pray;  that  the  long 
and  dark  shadow,  which  they  cast  upon  every  man's  heart, 
may  be  illumined,  we  must  all  implore  of  Almighty  God ; 
but  I  wish  that  awful  feeling  of  human  weakness,  which 
these  times  inspire,  may  ever  prevail;  I  wish  that  right  senti- 
ment of  absolute  dependence  upon  Almighty  Providence  may 
be  as  visible  in  our  future  happiness  as  it  is  in  our  present 
peril ;  I  wish,  when  all  the  passions  unfavourable  to  human 
happiness  have  subsided,  that  the  only  one  these  times  have 
produced,  which  has  any  tendency  to  place  human  happiness 
upon  its  proper  basis,  may  be  more  exquisitely  felt,  more 
widely  diffused,  and  more  profoundly  revered. 

Having  stated  the  causes  from  which  repentance  commonly 
originates,  I  am  next  to  show  by  what  means  and  by  what 
motives  repentance  may  be  best  fixed  into  a  habit,  so  that 
it  does  not  vanish  away  and  become  ineffectual,  after  it  has 
once  begun  to  operate. 

The  first,  and  greatest  mode  of  repenting,  is  by  resolving  to 
— ^-be  free,  by  a  revolt  against  the  tyranny  of  sin,  and  a  struggle 
for  the  freedom  of  righteousness.  This  is  a  love  of  freedom, 
which  produces  no  excess,  and  acknowledges  no  hmits  which 
is  at  work  to  destroy  the  anarchy  of  passion,  and  restore  the 
lawful  empire  of  religion  ;— not  that  foolish  love  of  freedom 
which  attempts  to  get  rid  of  all  restriction,  but  that  useful 
love  of  freedom,  which  is  conscious  that  men  must  be  re- 
strained, and  busies  itself  only  in  providing,  that  the  restraints 
*  to  which  they  are  subjected  shall  be  the  wisest  and  the  best. 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  is  there  really  tyranny  in  sin  ?  and 


ON  REPENTANCE.  23 

does  repentance  make  a  man  free  ?  or  are  these  the  mere 
habitual  phrases  of  ministers  of  the  Gospel?  There  is  tyranny 
in  sin  ;  there  is  more  than  Egyptian  bondage  ;  it  is  bondage 
to  hate  an  appetite,  and  to  serve  it ;  to  make  one  law  for  your 
heart  which  you  cannot  follow  ;  and  to  follow  another  which 
you  cannot  love  ; — it  is  a  very  great  tyranny  to  find  all  your 
noble  resolutions  frustrated  by  one  base  sensuality  ;  to  see  the 
honour  and  peace,  and  piety,  within  your  reach,  snatched 
from  you  by  one  degrading  passion ;  to  know  that  you  are 
cheated  out  of  happiness,  and  out  of  salvation  ;  not  by  a 
pleasure,  for  that  would  be  something,  but  by  an  habit,  by 
that  which  at  last  yields  no  other  pleasure  in  the  doing,  than 
the  absence  of  that  misery  which  would  proceed  from  not 
doing  it :  in  fine,  in  all  wretchedness,  and  under  the  rod  of 
any  oppressor,  if  a  man  despise  not  himself,  joy  has  not  left 
that  man,  neither  is  happiness  turned  away  from  his  paths  ; 
but  the  eternal  frailty  of  sin  at  length  degrades  a  man  in  his 
own  eyes,  makes  him  cast  away  his  soul  in  despair,  and 
become  ostentatious  in  vice,  because,  in  the  pursuit  of  virtue, 
he  is  contemptible  and  mean. 

The  delight  which  success  imparts  in  this  sort  of  conflict 
is  no  mean  motive  to  begin  :  most  fervently,  and  sincerely, 
do  I  express  my  real  thoughts,  when  I  say  that  wealth, 
power,  fame,  and  all  the  vulgar  objects  of  human  ambition,  / 
have  not  a  single  pleasure  comparable  to  that  which  results 
from  victory  over  sin :  they  do  not  only  fall  far  short  of  it  in 
degree,  but  they  have  nothing  like  it  in  kind  ; — we  might  as 
well  liken  the  melody  of  the  harp  to  the  sounds  which  are 
sung  out  before  the  throne  of  God,  or  measure  the  proudest 
fabric  upon  earth  against  the  eternal  arch  of  the  heavens. 

When  vice  has  become  so  intrenched  in  habit,  and  the 
mind  so  feeble,  that  every  germ  of  repentance  is  stifled  as 
soon  as  it  appears,  then  we  must  gradually  repent.  The 
mind  will  not  yield  totally  to  first  efforts,  but  it  will  yield  a 
little  ;  and  every  time  we  return,  with  stronger  force,  to  a 
weaker  resistance ;  for  the  same  law  of  habit  which  makes 
the  sin  so  powerful,  confirms  the  virtue  which  resists  it. 
The  gradual  attempt  at  repentance  does  not  flatter  us  by  a 
sudden  act  of  power,  or  spare  our  patience  by  its  rapid 
progress  :  often  we  are  hurried  on  by  the  inveteracy  of  habit, 
and  driven  down  by  the  vehemence  of  passion ;  but  let  us 
keep  on,  and  continue  ;  if  only  a  year  of  hfe  remains,  let 
that  be  a  year  of  repentance  ;  remember,  that  the  reward  for 


SJ#  ON  REPENTANCE. 

which  we  labour  is  the  salvation  of  our  souls  ;  and,  that  if 
any  motive  can  stimulate  human  industry,  or  animate  human 
exertion,  an  hope,  above  all  this  world  can  promise,  should 
lead  to  efforts  above  all  this  world  can  produce. 

But  it  often  happens,  that  the  penitence,  began  at  a  mo- 
ment of  sickness,  or  despondence,  or  seriousness,  vanishes  with 
its  cause,  as  the  fearful  dreams  of  the  night  are  dispelled  by 
the  morning's,  hght.  In  this  fatal  resumption  of  self-con- 
fidence, we  should  remember,  that  the  horror  of  our  vices, 
which  we  experienced  in  the  moment  of  peril,  will  probably 
return  at  the  greatest  of  all  perils;  that  the  reasonings  against 
oiir  sins,  which  have  before  appeared  so  irresistible,  and  con- 
clusive, will  resume  their  power,  when  they  cannot  re-produce 
the  effects  of  repentance  ;  that  it  is  childish  to  say,  there  is  a 
God  in  the  storm,  and  to  become  an  Atheist  again  when  the 
winds  and  the  waves  are  still;  to  blaspheme  in  health,  and 
bless  in  sickness ;  to  enter  upon  the  first  stage  of  repentance, 
at  every  event  more  serious  than  common,  and  to  relapse 
into  our  ancient  sins  the  moment  we  resume  our  original 
feelings. 

Though  the  instability  of  repentance  does  sometimes  pro- 
ceed from  the  errors  of  the  understanding,  it  is  most  com- 
monly to  be  attributed  to  the  inability  to  execute  what  the 
understanding  determines  to  be  right ;  there  is  a  state  of 
mind,  (a  very  common  one,)  in  which  an  human  being,  per- 
fectly aware  he  is  doing  wrong,  and  destroying  his  own 
happiness,  cannot  refrain  from  the  impulse  of  present  grati- 
fication. Such  a  strange  preference  of  evil  has  led  some  to 
suppose,  that  the  imagination  always  miscolours  the  facts  in 
these  cases,  and  that,  at  the  moment  of  election,  from  some 
specious  misrepresentation,  the  best  of  two  actions  is  made  to 
appear  the  worst,  and  the  worst  the  best.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  quite  manifest,  when  gratifications  are  immediate,  and 
penalties  remote,  that  men  do  deliberately  pursue  that  line  of 
conduct  which  they  have  no  doubt  will  produce  to  them  a 
much  greater  portion  of  misery  than  good.  I  do  not  only 
mean  misery  in  a  w^orld  to  come,  but  misery  in  this  ;  and  to 
such  an  extreme  is  irresolution  carried,  that  men  will  fre- 
quently do  that  for  which  they  are  absolutely  certain  they 
must  atone,  by  tenfold  wretchedness,  within  the  short  period 
of  a  day,  or  an  hour ; — such  is  the  power  of  immediate 
enjoyment  over  the  minds  of  men. 

The  great  mean  of  making  repentance  efiicacious,  is  by 


ON  REPENTANCE.  25 

holding  no  parley  with  temptation  ;  to  hesitate  is  to  consent  ; 
to  listen  is  to  be  convinced ;  to  pause  is  to  yield. — The  soul 
of  a  penitent  man  should  be  as  firm  against  future  relapse 
as  it  is  sorrowful  for  past  iniquity :  the  only  chance  for  doing 
well,  is  to  be  stubborn  in  new  righteousness  ;  to  hear  nothing 
but  on  one  side,  and  to  be  indebted  for  safety  to  prudence 
rather  than  to  impartiality ;  above  all  things,  to  tremble  for 
youthful  virtue  ;  not  to  trust  ourselves  till  we  have  walked 
long  with  God, — till  the  full  measure  of  his  grace  is  upon  us, 
—till  long  abstinence  has  taught  us  to  forbear, — till  we  have 
gained  such  wide,  and  such  true  knowledge  of  pleasure,  that 
we  comprehend  salvation  and  eternity,  in  the  circle  of  your 
joys. 

When  we  ponder  over  the  Scriptures,  there  is  one  very 
delightful  promise  which  they  hold  out ;  not  only  that  repent- 
ance, producing  a  real  alteration  of  life,  will  be  accepted  of 
God  as  an  atonement  for  sin ;  but  so  much  does  that  accept- 
ance and  forgiveness  make  a  part,  and  an  essential  part  of 
the  great  scheme  of  redemption,  that  we  are  told,  there  will 
be  joy  in  heaven  over  a  repentant  sinner ;  that  the  vanquish- 
ing of  evil  penetrates  into  other  worlds,  reaches  to  higher 
systems,  diffuses  joy  over  greater  beings,  and  purer  natures, 
whom  we  should  have  supposed  to  be  occupied  with  their 
own  proper  and  essential  happiness ;  therefore,  no  man 
should  say,  my  life  has  been  too  bad, — I  have  gone  too  far, 
— I  have  trespassed  too  much,— I  may  as  well  go  on  to  the 
end, — I  have  no  chance  of  being  saved. — It  is  better  far 
that  such  a  man  should  make  a  last  effort  for  his  soul,  that 
he  should  come  forth,  and  lay  his  sin  upon  the  altar,  and 
call  earnestly  to  God  with  a  contrite  and  a  wounded  heart. 
-—Ninety  and  nine  just  persons  cannot  move  Heaven  as  much 
as  the  true  sorrows  of  sin  ;  all  things  are  better  than  the 
abandonment  of  hope  in  Providence,  and  the  daring,  wicked, 
impenitent  violation  of  the  laws  of  God. 

I  will  now,  then,  shortly  recapitulate  all  that  I  have  said, 
in  my  two  discoui^es,  upon  the  subject  of  repentance.  I 
have  said,  that  repentance  must  be  sincere ; — that  to  be 
sincere,  it  must  conduce  to  righteousness,  and  must  include 
restitution,  or  compensation ;  that  its  efficacy  is  in  proportion 
to  the  early  period  at  which  it  is  begun, — and  that  it  has  no 
efficacy  at  all,  if  it  is  deferred  till  the  moment  of  death : — 
The  causes  of  repentance,  I  have  stated  to  be  a  good,  reli- 
giou^ducation ;  sickness,  old  age,  and  aU  great  physical 


26  ON  REPENTANCE, 

evils,  public  or  private  repentance,  when  once  excited  by 
these  causes,  should  be  rendered  permanent  by  the  recollec- 
tion of  those  feelings  which  first  gave  it  birth,  by  dividing 
the  difficulty,  so  as  to  accommodate  it  to  our  weak  state  of 
resolution,  or  by  overwhelming  it,  at  once,  by  one  great 
eflbrt.  If  these  things  have  in  them  any  shadow  of  truth,-— 
if  they  are  founded  upon  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  then  repent 
ye ;  sin  no  more ;  leave  the  pledge  upon  the  altar ;  give  back 
the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  the  wages  of  Satan ;  and,  remem- 
ber your  Creator  while  life  yet  remains  ; — wait  not  till 
palsy  and  fever  teach  you  to  repent ;  wait  not  till  pain  and 
anguish  teach  you  the  power  of  God ; — learn,  rather,  that 
power  from  the  blessings  you  enjoy,  and  while  you  do  enjoy 
them,  repent  ye, — for  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand. 


^mm$0 


SEEMON   III. 

ON   TRUTH. 


A.nanias,  hearing  these  things,  fell  down,  and  gave  up  the  Ghost. — Acts  v. 

VERSE  5. 

Of  all  the  miracles  employed  for  the  propagation  of  the 
Gospel,  this  is  the  most  terrible. — In  most  of  the  other 
miracles,  the  object  is  merciful,  while  the  means  are  super- 
natural ;  the  laws  of  nature  are  suspended  to  cleanse  the 
leper,  to  illumine  the  bUnd,  and  even  to  raise  the  dead  from 
their  graves. — The  object  here,  is  to  punish,  to  smite  with 
sudden  death : — Ananias  and  Sapphira  are  guilty  of  a  lie, 
and,  in  an  instant,  in  the  full  tide  of  life,  they  fall  down  dead 
at  the  feet  of  the  apostle. 

As  the  age  of  miracles  is  no  more,  and  the  necessity  for 
their  occurrence  removed  by  the  diffusion  and  security  of 
the  Gospel,  we  are  no  longer  exposed  to  the  same  punishment 
for  the  same  violation  of  truth,  but  that  punishment  stands  on 
the  book  as  a  tremendous  record  of  the  magnitude  of  the  sin. 
It  gives  us  a  full  view  of  that  wrath  with  which  it  will  here- 
after be  pursued  ;  and  teaches  us  how  fatally  it  moves  the 
displeasure  of  God.  I  shall  avail  myself,  then,  of  this  awful 
history,  to  examine  the  nature  of  truth,  its  importance  as  a 
part  of  Christian  righteousness,  and  to  investigate  how  the 
habit  of  speaking  truth  is  impaired,  perverted,  destroyed, 
instituted,  and  confirmed. 

Upon  truth  rests  all  human  knowledge :  to  truth  man  is 
indebted  for  the  hourly  preservation  of  his  life,  and  for  a 
perpetual  guide  to  his  actions ;  without  truth  the  affairs  of  the 
world  could  no  longer  exist,  as  they  now  are,  than  they  could 
if  any  of  the  great  physical  laws  of  the  universe  were  sus- 
pended.    As  truth  is  of  indispensable  necessity  in  the  great 


ON  TRUTH. 


concerns  of  the  world,  it  is  also  of  immense  importance  as  it 
relates  to  the  common  and  daily  intercourse  of  life.  False- 
hood must  hav^e  a  direct  and  powerful  tendency  to  disturb  the 
order  of  human  affairs,  and  to  introduce  into  the  bosom  of 
society  every  gradation  and  variety  of  mischief. 

There  is  a  natural  tendency  in  all  men  to  speak  the  truth, 
because  it  is  absolutely  necessary  we  should  inform  ourselves 
of  the  truth  for  the  common  purposes  of  existence,  and  we  do 
not  say  one  thing  while  we  know  another,  but  for  the  inter- 
vention of  causes  which  are  comparatively  infrequent  and 
extraordinary;  the  first  of  these  which  I  shall  mention  is 
vanity.  The  vanity  of  being  interesting,  of  exciting  curi- 
osity, and  escaping  from  the  pain  of  obscurity : — Great  part 
of  the  mischief  done  to  character,  and  of  those  calumnies, 
which  ruffle  the  quiet  of  life,  have  their  origin  in  this  source. 
—Nor  is  the  falsehood  which  proceeds  from  it  to  be  consi- 
sidered  as  of  little  importance ;  it  is  incompatible  with  that 
earnest  and  permanent  regard  to  human  happiness  which 
the  Gospel  exacts ;  it  is  inimical  to  that  daily  exercise  of 
keeping  the  conscience  void  of  offence  towards  God,  and 
towards  man,  which  it  prescribes:  A  Christian  should  never 
forget  that  in  the  progress  of  refinement,  as  much  is  felt  for 
character  as  for  the  more  gross  and  substantive  advantages 
of  life ;  in  the  beginning,  we  have  only  property  in  food  and 
raiment;  but  as  the  world  goes  on,  there  springs  up  the  in- 
visible, intangible  property  of  fame,  which  nourishes  a  man's 
life,  though  he  be  hungered,  and  cold,  and  without  which  he 
is  dead  in  the  midst  of  life ;  if  respect  to  this  is  not  foreign 
to  human  happiness,  it  is  not  foreign  to  the  Gospel :  I  am 
sure  it  is  as  much  the  duty  of  a  pious  Christian  to  abhor 
falsehood,  injurious  to  the  feelings  of  his  fellow-creatures,  as 
it  is  to  abhor  falsehood  which  may  disturb  them  in  the  just 
right  of  their  possession ;  and  at  every  moment,  and  in  every 
relation  of  life,  it  must  be  his  duty  to  respect  truth  as  the 
ancient  and  solemn  barrier  of  human^happiness. — Not  that 
what  is  said  on  such  occasions  is  mere  falsehood;  but  the 
mischief  is  done  by  embellishment,  by  colouring,  by  false 
insinuation,  by  slight  change,  and  by  artful  suppression : 
broad,  shameless  falsehood  is  seldom  witnessed  in  the  world; 
and  the  greatest  violator  of  truth  preserves  enough  of  it  for 
outward  decency  and  inward  tranquillity  :  for,  though  Satan 
corrupted  man,  God  made  him,  and  he  loves  Heaven  in  the 
midst  of  his  iniquity ;  he  is  ever  ready  to  throw  over  his  sins 


ON  TRUTH.  5J0 

the  robe  of  virtue,  to  comfort  his  soul  with  soothing  words 
and  decent  pretences,  and  to  say  a  grace  to  God,  before  he 
sets  down  to  feast  with  Mammon. 

There  is  a  liar,  who  is  not  so  much  a  liar  from  vanity  as 
from  warmth  of  imagination,  and  levity  of  understanding ; 
such  a  man  has  so  thoroughly  accustomed  his  mind  to  extra- 
ordinary combinations  of  circumstances,  that  he  is  disgusted 
with  the  insipidity  of  any  probable  event ;  the  power  of 
changing  the  whole  course  of  nature  is  too  fascinating  for 
resistance ;  every  moment  must  produce  rare  emotions,  and 
stimulate  high  passions ;  life  must  be  a  series  of  zests,  and 
relishes,  and  provocations,  and  languishing  existence  be  re- 
freshed by  daily  miracles :  In  the  meantime,  the  dignity  of 
man  passes  away,  the  bloom  of  Heaven  is  effaced,  friends 
vanish  from  this  degraded  liar ;  he  can  no  longer  raise  the 
look  of  wonder,  but  is  heard  in  deep,  dismal,  contemptuous 
silence  ;  he  is  shrunk  from  and  abhorred,  and  lives  to  witness 
a  gradual  conspiracy  against  him  of  all  that  is  good  and 
honourable,  and  wise  and  great. 

Fancy  and  vanity  are  not  the  only  parents  of  falsehood ; — 
the  worst,  and  the  blackest  species  of  it,  has  its  origin  in 
fraud; — and,  for  its  object,  to  obtain  some  advantage  in  the 
common  intercourse  of  life. — Though  this  kind  of  falsehood 
is  the  most  pernicious,  in  its  consequences,  to  the  religious 
character  of  him  who  is  infected  by  it ;  and  the  most  detri- 
mental to  the  general  happiness  of  society,  it  requires,  (from 
the  universal  detestation  in  which  it  is  held,)  less  notice  in 
an  investigation  of  the  nature  of  truth,  intended  for  practical 
purposes. — He  whom  the  dread  of  universal  infamy, — the 
horror  of  being  degraded  from  his  rank  in  society,  — the 
thought  of  an  hereafter  will  not  inspire  with  the  love  of  truth, 
who  prefers  any  temporary  convenience  of  a  lie,  to  a  broad, 
safe,  and  refulgent  veracity,  that  man  is  too  far  sunk  in  the 
depths  of  depravity  for  any  rehgious  instruction  he  can  re- 
ceive in  this  place ; — the  canker  of  disease  is  gone  down  to 
the  fountains  of  his  blood,  and  the  days  of  his  life  are  told. 

Truth  is  sacrificed  to  a  greater  variety  of  causes  than  the 
narrow  limits  of  a  discourse  from  the  pulpit  will  allow  me  to 
state : — it  is  sacrificed  to  boasting,  to  malice,  and  to  all  the 
varieties  of  hatred  ;'^it  is  sacrificed,  also,  to  that  verbal  bene- 
volence which  delights  in  the  pleasure  of  promising,  as  much 
as  it  shrinks  from  the  pain  of  performing,  which  abounds  in 

3*  -^C^;'- 


W^  ON  TRUTH. 

gratuitous  sympathy,  and  has  words,  and  words  only,  for 
every  human  misfortune. 

I  have  hitherto  considered  the  love  of  truth  on  the  negative 
side  only,  as  it  indicates  what  we  are  not  to  do;— the  vices 
from  which  we  are  to  abstain  ; — ^but  there  is  an  heroic  faith, — 
a  courageous  love  of  truth,  the  truth  of  the  Christian  warrior, — 
an  unconquerable  love  of  justice,  that  would  burst  the  heart 
in  twain,  if  it  had  not  vent,  which  makes  women  men, — and 
men  saints, — and  saints  angels. — Often  it  has  published  its 
creed  from  amid  the'flames ; — often  it  has  reasoned  under  the 
axe,  and  gathered  firmness  from  a  mangled  body  ; — often  it 
has  rebuked  the  madness  of  the  people ; — often  it  has  burst 
into  the  chambers  of  princes,  to  tear  down  the  veil  of  false- 
hood, and  to  speak  of  guilt,  of  sorrow,  and  of  death. — Such 
was  the  truth  which  went  down  with  Shadrach  to  the  fiery 
furnace,  and  descended  with  Daniel  to  the  lion's  den. — Such 
was  the  truth  which  made  the  potent  Felix  tremble  at  his 
eloquent  captive. — Such  was  the  truth  which  roused  the  timid 
Peter  to  preach  Christ  crucified  before  the  Sanhedrin  of  the 
Jews ; — and  such  was  the  truth  which  enabled  that  Christ, 
whom  he  did  preach,  to  die  the  death  upon  the  cross. 

Having  thus  stated  the  most  ordinary  causes  of  falsehood, 
I  shall  endeavour  to  lay  before  you  the  means  and  the  mo- 
tives for  its  cultivation.  The  foundation  of  the  love  of  truth 
must  be  laid,  in  early  education,  by  unswerving  example, 
and  by  connecting  with  truth,  every  notion  of  the  respect  of 
men,  and  of  the  approbation  of  God;  and  by  combining  with 
the  idea  of  falsehood,  the  dread  of  infamy  and  impiety  ; — nor 
must  the  young  be  allowed  to  hesitate  about  the  importance 
of  the  particular  truth  in  question,  but  be  taught,  rather,  that 
all  truth  must  be  important ;  they  must  never  balance,  for  an 
instant,  between  the  convenience  of  falsehood,  and  the  peril 
of  veracity  ; — but  if  the  alternative  be  death,  or  falsehood,  let 
them  look  upon  death  as  inevitable,  as  if  God  had  struck  them 
dead  with  his  lightning. 

A  thorough  conviction  of  the  security  derived  from  truth, 
is  no  mean  incitement  to  its  cultivation.  Falsehood  subjects 
us  to  a  perpetual  vigilance ;  we  must  constantly  struggle  to 
reconcile  a  supposed  fact  to  the  current  of  real  events,  and  to 
point  out  the  consequences  of  an  ideal  cause ;  the  first  false- 
hood must  be  propped  up  by  a  second,  the  second  cemented 
by  a  third,  till  some  failure,  in  the  long  chain  of  fictions,  pre- 
cipitates into  the  gulf  of  infamy  him   whom  it  is  intended 


ON  TRUTH.  31 

to  support ; — then  there  is  the  perpetual  suspicion  of  being 
suspected  ;  we  elaborate  meaning  from  idle  words,  and  signi- 
ficance from  thoughtless  gestures.  Watchfulness,  silence 
and  melancholy  succeed  to  the  gayety  of  a  true  heart,  and  all 
virtue  is  gone  out  of  life.  This  is  the  bondage  of  falsehood, 
and  these  the  massive  chains  of  sin,  which,  if  any  man  pre- 
fer to  the  liberty  of  truth,  and  the  Gospel,  to  the  sweet  sleeps 
of  virtue,  to  her  free  step,  to  her  pleasant  thoughts,  to  her 
delicious  promise  of  immortal  life,  he  knows  not  the  highest 
joys  of  this  world,  nor  merits  those  of  a  better  world  than  this. 

We  shall  love  truth  better  if  we  believe  that  falsehood  is 
useless ;  and  we  shall  believe  falsehood  to  be  useless  if  we 
entertain  the  notion  that  it  is  difficult  to  deceive  ; — the  fact  is, 
(and  there  can  be  no  greater  security  for  well  doing  than 
such  an  opinion,)  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  deceive  the 
great  variety  of  talent,  information,  and  opinion,  of  which  the 
world  is  composed.  Truth  prevails,  by  the  universal  com- 
bination of  all  things  animate,  or  inanimate,  against  falsehood  ; 
for  ignorance  makes  a  gross  and  clumsy  fiction  ;  carelessness 
omits  some  feature  of  a  fiction  that  is  ingenious  ;  bad  fellowship 
in  fraud  betrays  the  secret ;  conscience  bursts  it  into  atoms  ; 
the  subtlety  of  angry  revenge  unravels  it ;  mere  brute,  uncon- 
spiring  matter  reveals  it;  death  lets  in  the  light  of  truth  ;  all 
things  teach  a  wise  man  the  difficulty  and  bad  success  of 
falsehood  ;  and  truth  is  inculcated  by  human  policy,  as  well 
as  by  divine  command. 

The  highest  motive  to  the  cultivation  of  truth,  is,  that  God 
requires  it  of  us  ; — he  requires  it  of  us,  because  falsehood  is^ 
contrary  to  his  nature, — because  the  spirit  of  man,  before  it 
can  do  homage  to  its  Creator,  must  be  purified  in  the  fur- 
nace of  truth.  There  is  no  more  noble  trial  for  him,  who 
seeks  the  kingdom  of  heaven  than  to  speak  the  truth  ; — 
often  the  truth  brings  upon  him  much  sorrow ;  often  it 
threatens  him  with  poverty,  with  banishment,  with  hatred, 
with  loss  of  friends,  with  miserable  old  age ;  but,  as  one  friend 
loveth  another  friend  the  more  if  they  have  suffered  together 
in  a  long  sorrow,  so  the  soul  of  a  just  man,  for  all  he  endures, 
clings  nearer  to  the  truth  ; — he  mocks  the  fury  of  the  people, 
and  laughs  at  the  oppressor's  rod  ;  and  if  needs  be,  he  sitteth 
down  like  Job  in  the  ashes,  and  God  makes  his  morsel  of 
bread  sweeter  than  the  feasts  of  the  liar,  and  all  the  banquets 
of  sin. 

To  carry  ourselves  humbly  and  meekly  in  the  world,  is  9, 


32  ON  TRUTH. 

sure  sign  of  a  sound  understanding,  and  an  evangelical  mind ; 
—but  we  have  duties  to  perform  to  ourselves,  as  well  as  to 
others  ;  and  there  is  no  one  to  whom  we  can  owe  as  much 
deference  as  we  owe  to  inward  purity,  and  religious  feeling. 
The  submission  paid  to  any  human  being,  by  the  sacrifice  of 
truth,  is  not  meekness,  nor  humility,  but  an  abject,  unresisting 
mind,  that  barters  God  and  heaven  for  a  moment  of  present 
ease  ;  and  puts  to  sale  man's  best  birthright  of  speaking 
truth ; — and  the  excellence  of  this  virtue  of  truth  consists  in 
this,  that  it  almost  necessarily  implies  so  many  other  virtues, 
or  so  certainly  leads  to  them  ;  for  he  who  loves  truth,  must 
be  firm  in  meeting  those  dangers  to  which  truth  sometimes 
exposes  him ;  if  he  loves  truth,  he  w^ill  love  justice ;  he  will 
gain  the  habit  of  appealing  to  the  precepts  of  conscience,  and 
of  stating  the  real  conceptions  of  his  own  mind,  with  that 
disregard  to  good  and  evil  consequence  which  those  only  can 
feel  who  look  on  sin  as  the  highest  evil,  and  obedience  to  God 
as  the  greatest  good. 

Lastly,  remember  that  other  sins  can  be  measured,  and  the 
degree  of  evil,  which  originates  from  them,  be  accurately 
known ; — but  no  man,  when  he  violates  truth,  can  tell  of 
what  sin  he  is  guilty ;  where  his  falsehood  will  penetrate  ; 
and  what  misery  it  will  create.  It  may  calumniate,  it  may 
kill,  it  may  embitter,  it  may  impoverish,  what  evil  it  may 
prove  you  cannot  tell ;  all  that  you  do  know  is,  that  it  is  a 
crime  which  injures  man,  and  offends  God  ;  therefore,  for 
every  reason  for  which  God  has  chained  man  up  in  his  par- 
ticular tendencies  to  individual  sins,  for  all  those  reasons  he 
has  sanctified,  and  ordained  truth ;  because,  by  truth  every 
other  virtue  is  upheld  ;  and  upon  truth  as  the  deep  rock, 
stand  all  the  glories  and  excellencies  of  the  human  mind. 
Shake  that  basis,  and  with  it  fall  justice  to  man  and  piety  to 
God  ;  the  frame  of  social  order  is  broken  up,  and  those  talents, 
and  passions  are  used  for  mutual  destruction,  upon  which 
Providence  intended  that  the  dignity  and  sublunary  dominion 
of  man  should  for  ever  rest. 


mm-m  '^^ 


SERMON    IV. 

ON   THE    EDUCATION    OF   THE   POOR, 


Wisdom  and  knowledge  shall  be  the  stability  of  thy  times. — Isaiah  xxxiii. 

VERSE  6. 

We  seem  to  have  here  something  like  a  prophetic  sanction 
for  the  propagation  of  knowledge :  Isaiah,  in  speaking  of  the 
future  prosperity  of  the  Jewish  empire,  rests  the  stability  of 
its  fortunes,  not  upon  wealth,  nor  extensive  dominion,  but 
directly  upon  knowledge.  Wisdom,  and  knowledge,  shall  be 
the  stability  of  the  times ; — as  if  he  had  said,  you  must  be 
brave  to  be  free ; — you  must  be  active  to  be  rich  ;  you  must 
be  rich  to  be  powerful ;  but  to  be  stable,  to  endure,  you  must 
be  taught.  Gain  all  other  good  which  you  can,  but  do  not 
expect  to  retain  them  without  knowledge  : — build  upon  that 
rock,  or  though  you  build  splendidly,  you  build  in  vain. 

As  it  has  fallen  to  my  lot  to  address  you  upon  the  present 
occasion,  I  know  not  what  better,  or  more  appropriate  to  the 
present  occasion*  I  can  do,  than  to  discuss  this  sentiment  of 
the  prophet ;  and  to  examine  into  the  eifects  which  knowledge 
produces  upon  the  welfare  of  mankind  ;  I  do  not  mean  know- 
ledge in  general,  but  that  species,  and  degree  of  it,  Avhich  is 
produced  by  the  education  of  the  poor  ; — by  such  investiga- 
tion, the  young  people,  who  are  assembled  here  to-day,  will 
better  perceive  the  nature  and  scope  of  those  advantages 
they  have  received  ;  their  charitable  guardians  will  be  more 
confirmed  in  the  utility  and  importance  of  their  good  works; 
and  those  who  object  altogether  to  the  education  of  the  poor, 
may,  perhaps,  in  the  progress  of  such  investigation,  be  in- 
duced to  re-consider  the  validity  of  those   objections  upon 

*  The  anniversary  at  the  Foundling  Hospital.   -^  C^^-W'^ 


--! 


-r 


9^  ON  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  POOR. 

which  their  opposition  is  founded.  I  rather  prefer  this 
course,  than  to  make  general  observations  on  human  misery ; 
because,  by  satisfying  the  understanding  that  the  thing  is 
right,  it  becomes  more  probable  that  we  shall  excite  some- 
thing much  better  than  temporary  feeling ; — ^benevolence, 
founded  upon  reasonable  conviction,  and  leading  to  judicious 
exertion. 

The  most  common  objection  to  the  education  of  the  lower 
orders  of  the  community  is, — That  the  poor  proud  of  the 
distinction  of  learning,  will  not  submit  to  the  performance  of 
those  lower  offices  of  life  which  are  necessary  to  the  well- 
being  of  a  state :  this  objection,  indeed,  I  only  mention,  that 
I  may  not  be  thought  to  have  passed  over  any  objection,  for 
nothing  can  be  more  mistaken  than  to  suppose  that  the  labo- 
rious classes  of  the  community  are  laborious  from  choice,  or 
from  any  other  principle  than  that  of  imperious  necessity  ;— 
a  necessity  with  which  education  has  no  more  to  do  than  with 
the  motion  of  the  planets,  and  the  flow  of  the  tides ; — every 
person  secures  to  himself  as  good  a  situation  in  society  as  he 
can ;  and  it  is  essentially  necessary  to  the  happiness  of  the 
world  that  he  should  do  so. — Those  whose  lot  and  heritage  fall 
among  the  lowest  fulfil  the  duties  entailed  upon  them,  and  ever 
must  fulfil  those  duties,  from  the  dread  of  want  for  themselves, 
and  for  others  dearer  to  them  than  themselves.  Our  poorer 
brethren  do  not  toil  because  they  are  ignorant ;  neither  would 
they  cease  to  toil  because  they  were  instructed ;  the  fabric 
of  human  happiness  God  has  placed  upon  much  stronger 
foundations ;  they  labour,  because  they  cannot  live  without 
labour ; — this  has  ever  been  sufficient  to  stimulate,  and  to 
continue  the  energy  of  man,  and  will,  and  must  ever  stimu- 
late it,  and  secure  its  continuance,  while  heaven  and  earth 
remain. 

The  next  objection,  urged  against  the  education  of  the  poor, 
is,  that  the  most  ignorant  poor,  in  country  villages,  are  the 
best ;  and  that  the  poor,  of  large  towns,  as  they  gain  in  in- 
telligence, lose  in  character,  and  become  corrupt,  as  they 
become  knowing ;  but  the  country  poor,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered, are  the  fewest  in  number ;  they  are  not  exposed  to  all 
those  innumerable  temptations  which  corrupt  the  populace 
of  large  towns  ;  this,  and  not  their  ignorance,  is  the  cause  of 
their  superior  decency  in  morals  and  religion  ;  it  is  uncandid 
to  oppose  the  poor  of  a  confined  village  to  the  poor  of  a 
wealthy  and  a  boundless  metropolis  ;  but  taking  subjects  of 


ON  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  POOR.  S^ 

comparison  from  the  same  spot,  and  under  the  same  circum- 
stances, do  we  find  that  the  ignorant  of  that  place  are  better 
than  the  instructed  of  that  place  ? — Does  any  man's  experi- 
ence enable  him  to  assert,  practically,  that  there  is  a  connec- 
tion between  uncultivated  minds  and  righteous  actions  ?  If 
we  want  to  make  a  human  being  do  that  which  is  just,  is  it 
necessary  to  make  him  think  that  which  is  sordid  ?  If  we 
wish  him  to  lift  up  his  soul,  in  pious  adoration,  to  his  Saviour 
and  his  God,  is  it  necessary  to  brutahze  that  soul  which  his 
God  has  given,  and  his  Saviour  redeemed  ?  Is  there,  can 
there  be  any  human  being  who  wishes  that  these  children, 
who  come  here  to  return  their  thanks  for  the  Providence  that 
has  watched  over  them,  had  been  forsaken,  passed  over  ; 
left  to  the  influence  of  such  principles  as  those  by  which  the 
minds  of  the  deserted  poor  are  impressed  ? — No  reasonable 
doubt  can  be  raised;  it  cannot,  with  any  colour  of  justice, 
be  contended :  every  effect  of  their  education  which  we  wit- 
ness, is  a  solid  gain  to  society;  if  temperance  can  be  so 
called ;  if  truth ;  if  honesty ;  if  a  solemn,  and  deep  adora- 
tion of  the  name,  and  of  the  laws  of  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ, 
are  worthy  of  that  appellation. 

In  considering  the  effects  of  educating  the  poor,  we  must 
not  merely  dwell  upon  the  power,  but  upon  the  tendency 
which  we  have  created  to  use  that  power  aright ;  not  merely 
ask  if  it  is  a  good  thing  for  the  poor  to  read,  but  to  read  such 
books  as  are  full  of  wise  and  useful  advice. — A  mere  instru- 
ment for  acquiring  knowledge  may  be  used  with  equal  suc- 
cess either  for  a  good  or  a  bad  purpose ;  but  education  never 
gives  the  instrument  without  teaching  the  proper  method  of 
using  it,  and  without  inspiring  a  strong  desire  to  use  it  in 
that  manner ;  it  raises  up  powerful  associations  in  favour  of 
righteousness ;  it  gives  a  permanence  of  opinion,  not  to  be 
blown  about  by  every  idle  breath  of  doctrine,  and  some  deep 
life-marks,  by  which  a  human  being  may  recover  himself, 
if  ever  he  does  wander.  To  teach  a  child  how  he  may 
acquire  knowledge,  is  neither  a  good  nor  an  evil ; — but  to 
fix  in  his  mind,  at  the  same  time,  a  strong  bias  for  the  acqui- 
sition of  that  knowledge  which  makes  him  a  better  subject, 
a  better  servant,  and  a  better  Christian,  is  the  inestimable 
object  sought  for,  and  gained  by  the  education  of  the  poor.-— 
It  is  in  vain  to  say  we  did  well  without  educating  our  poor ; 
— we  should  never  be  content  with  doing  well,  where  there 
is  a  rational  prospect  of  doing  better. — Besides,  what  is  doing 


36  ON  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  POOR. 

well  ? — We  do  not  do  well  while  many  of  the  poor  are  led 
to  ignominious  death  for  want  of  education ;  we  do  not  do 
well  while  little  children  are  left  to  perish ; — we  do  not  do  well 
while  thousands  of  unhappy  females  are  perishing  in  the 
streets,  the  victims  of  artifice  acting  against  deplorable  igno- 
rance;— we  do  not  do  well  while  those  whose  bodies  are 
nourished,  are  left  ignorant  of  the  name  of  Christ,  and  of  the 
sacred  duties  which  his  Gospel  enjoins ; — it  is  to  do  better 
than  this,  that  this  noble  charity  was  reared ;  and  that  the 
great  work  of  educating  the  poor  is  going  on  throughout  this 
enlightened  kingdom,  under  the  protection  of  God,  and  by 
the  labours  of  good  and  pious  men. 

Education  may  easily  be  made  to  supply,  hereafter,  the 
most  innocent  source  of  amusement,  and  to  lessen  those  vices 
which  proceed  from  want  of  interesting  occupation  ; — it  sub- 
dues ferocity,  by  raising  up  an  admiration  for  something  besides 
brutal  strength  and  brutal  courage. — If  we  were  told  of  a 
poor  man's  family  in  the  country,  that,  after  the  completion 
of  their  labours,  they  amused  themselves  with  reading,  could 
any  human  being  go  there,  after  being  acquainted  with 
such  a  fact,  and  expect  to  find  more  blasphemy,  more  drunk- 
enness, more  indecency,  and  more  ferocity,  than  among 
ignorant,  iUiterate  people  ?  The  fact  is  so  much  the  reverse, 
that  it  is  impossible  to  know  that  a  human  creature  can  derive 
pleasure  from  books,  without  feeling  towards  him  an  increased 
security  and  respect.  It  is  some  sort  of  proof  that  such  a 
man  is  not  a  barbarous  man  ;  that  he  does  not  thirst  for  blood; 
that  he  has  heard  there  is  a  God ;  that  he  has  given  away 
bread  to  the  wretched  ;  that  he  has  an  house,  an  altar,  and  a 
king. 

We  must  remember,  in  this  question,  that  all  experience  is 
in  our  favour,  that  the  experiment  of  educating  the  poor 
in  the  Gospel,  as  well  as  in  the  lower  parts  of  human  learn- 
ing, has  been  tried  in  many  countries  of  Europe,  to  the 
greatest  extent,  and  with  the  greatest  success. — We  must 
remember,  that  the  question  of  educating  the  poor,  is  not  a 
question  between  a  virtuous  education  and  no  education  at 
all ;  but  it  is  a  choice  between  a  good  education  and  a  bad 
one; — you  cannot  repress  the  inborn  activity  of  these  poor 
children,  and  render  those  minds  stagnant  which  are  not  pro- 
gressive to  a  good  point ; — you  will  have  weeds  to  eradicate, 
if  you  have  not  harvests  to  reap.' — You  must  incur  greater 
trouble  and  expense  hereafter,  in  punishing  their  crimes, 


§M-MS^iWW%M  37 


ON 

than  you  do  now  in  cherishing  their  virtues, — you  must 
either  teach  them  the  word  of  Christ,  and  the  law  of  ever- 
lasting life  ;  or  you  must  rage  against  them  with  gibbets  and 
chains ;  and  thrust  them  from  the  hght  of  the  world  into  the 
torments  of  hell. 

There  are  many  methods  in  which  a  community  is  con- 
siderably benefited  by  the  education  of  its  poor  ;  a  human 
being  who  is  educated,  is,  for  many  purposes  of  commerce, 
a  much  more  useful  and  convenient  instrument ;  and  the 
advantage  to  be  derived  from  the  universal  diffusion  of  this 
power,  is  not  to  be  overlooked  in  a  discussion  of  this  nature. 

The  education  of  the  poor  sifts  the  talents  of  a  country, 
and  discovers  the  choicest  gifts  of  nature  in  the  depths  of 
solitude,  and  in  the  darkness  of  poverty  ; — for  Providence 
often  sets  the  grandest  spirits  in  the  lowest  places,  and  gives 
to  many  a  man  a  soul  far  better  than  his  birth,  compelling 
him  to  dig  with  a  spade,  who  had  better  have  wielded  a 
sceptre  ;  education  searches  everywhere  for  talents ;  sifting 
among  the  gravel  for  the  gold,  holding  up  every  pebble  to 
the  hght,  and  seeing  whether  it  be  the  refuse  of  Nature,  or 
whether  the  hand  of  art  can  give  it  brilliancy  and  price  : — 
There  are  no  bounds  to  the  value  of  this  sort  of  education  :  I 
come  here  to  preach  upon  this  occasion ;  when  fourteen  or 
fifteen  youths,  who  have  long  participated  of  your  bounty, 
come  to  return  you  their  thanks  ;  how  do  we  know  that  there 
may  not  be,  among  all  these,  one  who  shall  enlarge  the 
boundaries  of  human  knowledge  ; — who  shall  increase  the 
power  of  his  country  by  his  enterprise  in  commerce  ; — watch 
over  its  safety  in  the  most  critical  times,  by  his  vigilance  as  a 
magistrate ; — and  consult  its  true  happiness  by  his  integrity, 
and  his  ability  as  a  senator  ?  On  all  other  things  there  is 
a  sign,  or  a  mark ; — we  know  them  immediately,  or  we  can 
find  them  out ;  but  man,  we  do  not  know  ;  for  one  man  dif- 
fereth  from  another  man  as  Heaven  differs  from  earth  ; — 
and  the  excellence  that  is  in  him,  education  seeks  for  with 
vigilance,  and  preserves  with  care.— -We  might  make  a 
brilliant  list  of  our  great  English  characters,  who  have  been 
born  in  cottages  ; — may  it  ever  increase  : — there  can  be  no 
surer  sign  that  we  are  a  wise  and  a  happy  people. 

I  would  ask  those  who  place  such  confidence  in  the  bene- 
fits of  ignorance,  how  far  they  would  choose  to  carry  these 
benefits  ?  for,  if  the  safety  of  a  state  depends  upon  its  igno- 
rance,— then,  the  more  ignorance  the  more  safety  ; — and  we 
4 


~\ 


38  ON  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  POOR. 

ought  to  wish  the  lower  orders  degraded  to  the  last  state  of 
savage  stupidity  ;  and  if  this  were  done,  we  forget  that  such 
materials  must  yield  to  seduction  and  artifice,  as  well  as  to 
the  mandates  of  lawful  empire ;— but  the  particular  kind  of 
ignorance  such  reasoners  want,  is  an  ignorance  tranquil  and 
submissive  to  its  rulers,  and  full  of  active  intelhgence  against 
those  who  would  mislead  it  from  its  duty— an  ignorance, 
which  it  would,  by  no  means,  be  desirable  to  diffiise,  if  it 
were  possible. 

The  situation  of  the  poor,  in  this  country,  is,  with  a  very 
few  exceptions,  perhaps,  as  good  as  human  nature  will  per- 
mit; upon  the  number  of  understandings  on  which  this  truth 
can  be  impressed,  the  stability  of  the  times  essentially  de- 
pends ; — if,  then,  we  have  placed  our  happiness  on  the  eternal 
foundations  of  justice;  and  if  there  is  a  rock  beneath  our  feet, 
as  firm  as  adamant,  and  as  deep  as  the  roots  of  the  earth, 
how  foolish  to  rest  it  upon  the  crumbling  and  treacherous 
soil  of  ignorance,  which  every  wind  can  disperse,  and  every 
flood  can  wash  away. 

I  by  no  means  contend,  that  the  government  which  com- 
mands them  can  have  nothing  to  fear  from  a  people  among 
whom  education  is  widely  diffused,  because  it  is  idle  to  say, 
that  a  government  is  ever  completely  out  of  all  danger  from 
the  madness  of  any  people ;  but  I  say  there  is  always  less  to 
fear  from  a  people  whom  you  have  educated  in  the  Gospel, 
and  to  whom  you  imparted  also  some  degree  of  human  know- 
ledge, than  from  any  other  people.- — ^If  such  a  people  ima- 
gine a  vain  thing  in  their  heart,  they  are  soon  called  back  to 
duty  ; — their  repentance  is  speedy,  and  their  excesses  are 
light ;— but  when  a  human  being  rises  up  against  us  whom 
Ave  have  degraded  to  the  state  of  a  brute,  he  rises  up  against 
us,  as  that  being  would  to  which  we  have  hkened  him, — to 
diffuse  slaughter  and  destruction  wherever  he  bends  his  steps. 

Nothing  brutahzes  human  faculties  more  than  the  extreme 
division  of  labour;  and  this  division,  invaluable  to  commerce 
and  industry,  is  carried  to  such  a  height  in  this  country,  that 
it  calls  imperiously  for  the  corrective  of  education.  We  are 
to  remember  the  counteracting  power  gained  by  the  increased 
knowledge  of  their  superiors  in  rank  ; — all  other  classes  have 
gained  the  good  to  be  gained  by  education ;  to  impart  it  to 
this,  is  not  to  violate  the  proportion  of  the  machine,  but  to 
maintain  it; — to  be  brief,  these  are  the  principles  which  have 
always  guided  the  conductors  of  this  charity  in  the  long  course 


ON  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  POOR.  89 

of  care  and  attention  which  they  have  paid  to  the  education 
of  the  deserted  poor,  beginning  at  the  earUest  infancy,  and 
ending  as  you  now  see  it  end. — Speaking  for  them,  and  think- 
ing with  them,  I  say,  we  heUeve,  that  the  labour  of  the  poor 
is  founded  upon  their  wants; — that  God  has  commanded  us 
to  breed  them  up  diligently  in  the  Gospel ;— that  the  know- 
ledge we  are  imparting  to  them,  will  protect  them  from  that 
vice  which  proceeds  from  idleness; — that  it  will  soften  the 
hard  heart,  and  teach  them  to  respect  wisdom  more  than 
strength.  We  are  encouraged  by  all  that  has  been  done  be- 
fore, for  the  propagation  of  knowledge,  and  we  feel  all  that 
confidence  which  results  from  experience  ; — we  are  convinced 
there  is  less  toil  in  teaching  duties  than  in  punishing  crimes ; 
—we  think  we  are  bettering  all  faculties,  inspiring  vigorous 
industry,  and  valuable  enterprise,  and  giving  to  great  under- 
standings a  fair  range  of  action.  We  think  the  more  employ- 
ment is  simplified,  the  more  the  mind  of  man  is  degraded,  and 
education  rendered  necessary, — and  we  know  that  in  spread- 
ing the  Word  of  God,  and  the  mercies  of  Jesus  Christ,  we  are 
conferring  the  most  exalted  blessings  on  the  poor  ; — lastly, 
always,  and  at  all  times,  we  reject  ignorance  as  a  dangerous 
and  disgraceful  auxiliary,  and  we  say,  with  the  great  prophet, 
on  knowledge,  and  on  wisdom,  the  stability  of  the  times  shall 
rest. 


SERMON  V. 
ON  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 


And  they  were  continually  in  the  temple  praising  and  blessing  God. — Luke 
XXIV.  VERSE  53. 

I  DO  not  purpose  to  recommend,  after  the  model  of  apostoli- 
cal righteousness,  a  devotion  so  fervid  and  so  incessant  as 
that  mentioned  in  my  text ;  because,  though  in  the  early  dis- 
ciples of  our  Saviour  it  was  a  natural  consequence  of  the  great 
events  to  which  they  were  the  witnesses,  it  would,  in  us,  (if 
such  a  stretch  of  all  our  faculties,  and  continued  elevation  of 
all  our  ideas,  were  possible,)  be  a  deviation  from  that  life  of 
action,  in  which  the  perfection  of  Christianity  principally  con- 
sists; but  it  may  be  fairly  urged  that,  by  a  constant  retrospect 
to  these  fathers,  and  founders  of  the  faith,  our  devotion  will 
be  increased  and  confirmed :  (every  allowance  made  for 
diversity  of  character  and  situation,)  if  prayer  was  their  con- 
stant occupation,  it  should  at  least  be  our  occasional  exercise; 
if  there  were  no  intervals  at  which  they  left  the  temple,  there 
should  be  some  periods  at  which  we  approach  it ;  there  can 
be  no  circumstances  which  can  make  an  exercise  at  all  times 
unnecessary  to  us,  which  was  at  every  moment  indispensable 
to  them. 

I  lay  a  great  stress  upon  that  part  of  my  text  which  says 
they  prayed  in  the  temple,  not  heedlessly,  and  as  every  one 
listed,  but  at  a  known  and  consecrated  place,  and  together; 
because,  as  I  presume  the  efficacy  and  importance  of  prayer 
to  be  admitted,  I  mean  now  only  to  contend,  that  prayer 
should  be  offered  up  eminently  and  emphatically,  on  this  day 
and  at  this  place,  in  the  open  church  and  on  the  Sabbath ; 
not  that  other  days  and  other  places  should  be  excluded, 
(God  forbid,)  but  that  these  should  be  preferred. 


ON  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP.  41 

The  most  ordinary  reason  alleged  for  the  abstinence  from 
public  worship,  is  the  pressure  of  worldly  business  :  now,  it 
somehow  or  another  happens,  that  the  time  most  commonly 
selected  to  answer  the  calls  of  extraordinary  occupation,  is 
that  which  would  otherwise  be  appropriated  to  the  duties  of  "^ 
religion ;  if  the  enjoyments  of  pleasure  and  society  were  first 
sacrificed,  and  then  the  concerns  of  religion  entrenched  upon, 
a  very  bad  plea  would  be  made  a  very  little  better  ;  but  the 
first  resource  which  presents  itself  to  every  industrious  man 
is  irrehgion,  and  if  this  is  not  sufficient,  he  then  begins  to  ' 
think  of  sacrificing  his  amusements :  to  say  that  the  life  of 
any  individual  is  so  wholly  engrossed  by  afiairs  that  he  can- 
not subtract  from  it  the  small  portion  of  time  allotted  to  pubhc 
worship,  can  hardly  be  true ;  and  if  true  is  disgraceful ; — 
when  the  will  goes  along  with  the  understanding,  every  man 
finds  ample  resources  in  the  vigour  of  his  mind ;  energy  in- 
creases with  difficulty;  and  the  busy,  accustomed  to  a  stre- 
nuous exertion  of  their  powers,  have  frequently  more  leisure 
than  those  whose  inveterate  idleness  magnifies  every  trifle 
into  a  serious  concern.  We  may  safely  say,  if  the  purpose 
was  grateful,  the  time  would  be  found  ;  but  the  truth  is,  that 
the  race  is  painful,  and  the  goal  not  pleasant;  the  means 
oppress,  and  the  end  does  not  allure ;  the  labour  is  great  and 
the  reward  not  inviting ;  and  forgetful  man,  who  never  de- 
frauds his  appetites  of  a  single  moment,  can  find  no  time  for 
his  God. 

This  plea  of  want  of  time,  (bad  apology  as  it  is  for  the 
neglect  of  public  worship,)  is,  as  I  have  said  before,  rarely  or 
ever  true ;  the  most  occupied  men  have,  in  general,  a  con- 
siderable share  of  society  and  amusement;  if  friends  are  to 
meet  together,  if  vanity  is  to  be  gratified  by  display ;  if  inte- 
rest is  to  be  promoted  by  the  cultivation  of  the  great;  if  some 
new  gratification  is  to  be  offered  to  the  senses ;  if  curiosity  is 
to  be  excited ;  if  imagination  is  to  be  roused ;  the  wings  of 
time  are  clipped  and  the  hours  no  longer  fly  away.  The 
little  intervals  set  apart  for  joy,  the  Sabbaths  of  pleasure,  are 
ever  sacred  and  inviolable  from  the  business  of  the  world  ; 
but  when  piety  asks  a  moment  from  these  mighty  concerns, 
the  merchant  hurries  to  his  business,  the  scholar  seizes  on  his 
book,  and  an  impious  sedulity  seems  to  pervade  all  ranks  and 
description  of  men  ; — one  remembers  the  yoke  of  oxen  that 
he  has  purchased  ;  another  the  wife  that  he  has  espoused ; 

4* 


43t  ON  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 

then,  and  then  chiefly,  we  all  seem  ready  to  rememher  this  life 
at  the  only  period  when  God  has  commanded  us  to  forget  it. 

But,  admitting  this  irresistible  multiplicity  of  aflliirs,  and 
supposing  that  the  calls  which  society  makes  upon  the  in- 
dustry and  activity  of  any  individual,  are  as  numerous  as 
that  individual  would  wish  it  to  be  supposed,  it  is  in  every 
man's  power  to  be  a  little  less  rich,  a  little  less  powerful,  and 
a  little  less  important ;  we  are  not  to  sacrifice  to  the  Lord  our 
God  that  which  costs  us  nothing ;  to  give  him  only  the  casual 
refuse  of  our  time,  after  it  has  first  satisfied  every  worldly 
demand  ;  and  to  offer  up  the  mere  relics  of  existence,  suscep- 
tible of  no  higher  employment,  and  worthy  of  no  better  use. 
Consider,  I  beseech  you,  what  these  ceremonies  of  rehgion 
are,  to  which  every  little  concern  of  business,  pleasure,  and 
profit  is  preferred; — they  are  the  incorporated  worship  of  all 
who  believe  alike  in  Christ;  the  union  of  all  who  ask  from 
God  what  they  have  not,  or  thank  him  for  what  they  have ; 
they  are  the  solemn  expression  of  the  faith  of  nations,  the 
overt  proof  that  earth  is  obedient  to  heaven ;  the  only  public 
evidence  that  man  is  occupied  with  other  things  than  the 
brief  disquietudes  of  this  perishable  globe. 

The  Gospel  loves  not  a  lukewarm  heart ;  it  is  a  religion  of 
feeling  and  ardour ;  when  it  has  penetrated  into  a  man's 
thoughts,  as  it  ought  to  penetrate,  it  will  produce  outward 
respect,  rigid  observance,  a  promptness,  and  a  zeal  in  wor- 
ship ;  it  is  better  in  fact  to  wash  off  the  stain  of  baptism,  to 
shake  the  dust  of  our  feet  upon  the  altar,  than  to  revere  that 
which  we  desert,  and  deny,  by  our  lives,  the  God  whom  we 
believe  in  our  hearts. 

There  are  men  who,  without  pretending  to  be  so  occupied 
on  the  Sabbath,  allege  that  it  is  their  only  day  of  relaxation 
from  business,  and  that  it  is  reasonable  enough  they  should 
consider  it  in  that  point  of  view. — Such  an  open  preference 
of  pleasure  to  religion,  or  the  fatal  notion  that  they  are  so  com- 
pletely opposed  to  each  other,  proceeds  from  an  apathy  upon 
these  sacred  subjects  which  hardly  admits  of  any  cure. — If 
every  exercise  which  disposes  the  mind  to  the  contemplation 
of  an  hereafter  is  burthensome,  it  is  impossible  religion  can 
exist  at  all  under  such  a  system  of  thinking.  If  it  is  a  privi- 
lege to  be  exempt  from  the  duties  of  religion,  of  course  no  one 
will  resort  to  the  temple  of  God  who  has  the  slightest  worldly 
inducement  to  avert  him  from  it. — The  ministers  of  the  Gospel 
invite  men  here,  because  they  consider  salvation  to  be  the 


ON  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP.  43 

first  and  greatest  care  ;  they  presume,  that  an  occasional  re- 
course to  the  Christian  worship,  and  the  improvement  conse- 
quent upon  that  worship,  will  diffuse  over  the  mind  a  feeling 
of  calmness  and  content;  and,  by  strengthening  the  habit  of 
self-command,  render  pleasure  itself  more  productive,  by 
rendering  it  compatible  with  innocence,  and  with  religion. 
But  the  style  of  thinking  against  which  I  am  contending,  in- 
verts the  whole  order  of  human  duties,  supposing  that  the 
first  command  of  the  Gospel  is  to  grow  rich,  or  to  enjoy  the 
greatest  quantity  of  pleasure  which  can  be  procured,  and 
then,  if  any  little  residue  of  leisure  remain,  that  it  is  to  be 
given  to  rehgion ; — but,  tolerating,  for  a  moment,  this  fatal, 
and  I  must  say,  this  very  irrehgious  style  of  thinking,  and 
acting ;  and  allowing  that  a  religious  institution  can,  with  any 
colour  of  reason,  be  objected  to,  because  it  does  not  furnish  its 
immediate  tribute  of  gratification,  it  is  fair  to  remind  such  ob- 
jectors, of  those  numbers  who,  in  the  pursuit  of  all  common 
trades  and  professions,  tlo  submit  every  day  to  a  much  more 
painful,  and  more  considerable,  sacrifice  of  their  time  and  at- 
tention. Who  rejects  the  most  loathsome  disease  ?  who  shrinks 
from  the  driest  forms  of  law  ?  who  turns  away  in  disgust  from 
the  dullest  calculations? — The  mammon  of  unrighteousness 
can  infuse  into  us  all  a  meekness  and  a  patience  which  we 
are  so  slow  to  feel  in  the  service  of  our  God.  These  feelings 
are  not  the  feelings  of  a  man,  who,  in  his  rehgion,  exhibits 
the  marks  of  health  and  life  : — a  just  and  good  man,  when  he 
quits  the  church,  feels  that  he  has  performed  a  duty  which 
he  owes  to  man,  and  which  he  owes  to  his  Creator  ;  he  has 
set  an  example  to  those  who  are  inferior  to  him  in  age  and 
situation ;  instead  of  talking  about  rehgion,  he  has  practically 
contributed  his  share  of  effort  to  preserve  religion  in  the 
world;  he  has  done  good  to  himself  also ;  for  a  few  hours  he 
has  put  the  world  out  of  sight ;  he  has  covered  his  heart  in 
mourning,  and  in  ashes,  and  given  to  himself  a  chance  of 
living  belter ;  he  has  heard  those  who  have  told  him  things, 
not,  perhaps,  that  he  did  not  know  before,  but  things  which 
would  not  have  occurred  to  him  again  if  he  had  not  quitted 
the  world,  and  come  here  to  hear  them ;  he  has  been  honestly 
and  affectionately  warned  to  remember  the  shortness  of  human 
life,  and  to  repent  in  Christ  before  the  hand  of  death  is  upon 
him.  It  is  not  true,  that  the  duties  of  rehgion  are  unpleasant ; 
many  men  feel  a  sohd  and  rational  comfort  from  having  per- 
formed them ;  they  encounter  business  with  a  greater  plea- 


44  ON  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 

sure ;  they  enjoy  amusement  with  greater  satisfaction  ;  they 
discover  that  they  gain  by  pubh'c  worship,  the  charming  feel- 
ing of  duty  well  performed,  and,  therefore,  they  come  back 
here  again  at  the  stated  interval  to  resuscitate  that  feeling, 
and  to  quicken  with  it  the  days  and  hours  of  common  life. 

The  conclusion  that  public  worship  is  not  essentially  ne- 
cessary to  religion,  is  a  conclusion  rather  of  indolence  than 
reason ;  a  conclusion  (as  is  commonly  the  case  in  the  logic  of 
convenience),  born  before  the  premises  ;  first  admitted  to  be 
true,  because  it  is  agreeable  ;  and  then  proved  to  be  true  by 
the  best  arguments  that  can  be  found  :  it  will,  in  general,  be 
found,  in  practice,  that  those  who  contend  for  the  possibility 
of  being  very  religious,  without  frequenting  the  service  of 
the  church,  confine  themselves  to. the  mere  possibility,  with- 
out going  so  far  as  to  convert  that  possibility  into  a  fact.— - 
Simple  indolence  and  downright  impiety  we  comprehend, 
and  are  not  ignorant  by  what  species  of  argument  they  are 
to  be  attacked ;  but  when  a  man,  careless  about  religion, 
happens  to  possess  a  lively  imagination,  or  to  affect  it,  he 
speaks  as  if  his  feehng  spirit  could  not  wing  its  flights,  and 
pour  forth  its  efl^usions  in  a  temple  built  hymen's  hands; 
and  having  drawn  fine  pictures  of  an  elevated  mind,  pouring 
forth  the  eloquence  of  pious  wonder  among  rocks  and  clouds 
he  remains  quietly  at  home,  with  no  mean  sense  of  his  own 
refinement,  and  with  no  ordinary  contempt  for  our  narrow 
conformity. — The  truth  is,  if  the  ordinary  season  for  hearing 
of  temperance,  and  righteousness,  and  judgment  to  come, 
displeases,  the  convenient  season  will  never  come  ;  if  this 
place  is  bad,  all  places  are  bad;  if  this  hour  is  irksome, 
every  hour  is  irksome;  we  merely  ascribe  our  objections  to 
time  and  place,  and  manner,  which  have  their  deeper  origin 
in  the  melancholy  encroachment  of  present  gratification,  over 
all  the  valuable  and  exalted  principles  of  our  nature. 

Without  pubhc  worship,  religion  could  not  long  subsist ; 
for  that  which  might  be  done  at  all  times,  would  be  done  at 
no  time;  or,  if  private  worship  were  attended  to,  religion 
would  then  depend  upon  the  unassisted  talents,  and  the  un- 
restrained humours  of  each  individual.  A  rational  faith,  and 
a  sound  practice,  would  be  inflamed  by  enthusiasm,  darkened 
by  superstition,  distorted  by  caprice,  or  chilled  by  indifl^er- 
ence ;  for  religion  has  this  in  it,  that  it  is  too  often  marked 
by  the  weakness  of  old  age,  or  the  unquenchable  activity  of 
youth ;  it  has  too  much  of  the  living  principle,  or  too  little ; 


ON  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP.  45 

it  evaporates  into  mist,  or  smites  away  the  barriers  of  reason 
witli  a  torrent.  The  operations  of  such  a  mighty  principle 
must  not  take  place  in  secret ;  they  must  be  called  forth  at 
stated  intervals,  watched  by  enlightened  guardians,  mode- 
rated by  pubhc  opinion,  animated  by  sympathy,  and  con- 
firmed by  example. 

Independently  of  all  higher  and  better  reasons,  we  all 
ought  to  know,  that  the  regularity  and  system  of  public 
worship  form  no  inconsiderable  part  of  that  basis  on  which 
the  edifice  of  social  life  is  placed.  Faith  in  contract,  spirit  in 
enterprise,  security  in  possession ;  a  flourishing  commerce, 
a  vigorous  executive,  an  obedient  people,  are  blessings  much 
more  intimately  connected  with  the  Gospel,  than  the  infidel 
believes,  who  scorns  it  because  it  relates  only  to  a  life  of 
eternity. 

It  sometimes  happens,  that  men  abstain  from  the  public 
worship,  because  they  are  ashamed  to  frequent  it ; — they  are 
afraid,  lest  an  attention  to  decencies  should  be  construed  into 
feebleness  of  understanding ; — and,  that  they  should  be  con- 
sidered as  enslaved  to  prejudices,  because  they  are  obedient 
to  forms ; — nay  more,  by  an  inverted  hypocrisy,  they  would 
seem  less  religious  than  they  really  are; — and  avoid  the  cha- 
racter of  being  devout,  while  they  are  enjoying  the  internal 
consolations  of  devotion ; — whereas  the  duty  of  a  sincere 
Christian  is  not  only  to  abhor  that  fame  for  intellectual  vigour 
and  spirit  which  is  evinced  by  irreligion,  but  manfully  to  set 
at  nought  the  scoffings  of  impiety;  to  confess  Christ  boldly 
before  men  ;  and  to  come  sedulously,  and  purposely,  and 
constantly,  to  gain  all  that  discredit,  and  to  incur  all  that 
disgrace,  which  sinners  glory  in  lavishing  upon  the  disciples 
of  Christ.  Not  making  long  prayers  in  the  corners  of  the 
streets,  as  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  did,  for  the  praise  of 
men ;  but  coming  openly  to  the  temple  to  pray,  that  you  may 
show  the  scofier  how  little  you  heed  him ;  and  that  you  are 
not  that  fool  whom  every  profligate  wretch  can  sneer  out  of 
his  salvation. 

This  negligence  of  public  worship  never  remains  long 
within  the  limits  to  which  those  who  are  guilty  of  it  wish  to 
confine  it.  With  what  decency,  with  what  hope  of  success, 
can  the  mother  pour  the  blessings  of  rehgious  instruction  into 
the  minds  of  her  children,  when  they  are  all  contradicted  by 
the  example  of  him  whom  they  are  bound,  and  instructed 
most  reverently,  to  love  ?     While  we  talk  of  bad  books  and 


^  ON  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 

bad  principles,  we  overlook  these  lessons  of  impiety,  which 
masters  and  parents  are  perpetually  reading  to  those  who  are 
influenced  by  their  example  ;  and  then  we  make  scape-goats 
of  a  few  popular  and  infidel  writers,  and  lay  the  profaneness 
of  the  age  to  their  charge. 

The  preservation  of  public  worship  every  man  owes  to  his 
own  immediate  happiness ; — he  owes  it  to  the  vigour  and 
purity  of  his  religious  character,  and  to  his  progress  in  the 
true  knowledge  of  the  Gospel ;  but  if  blind  to  these,  he  must, 
at  least,  see  that  he  owes  to  it  the  preservation  of  social  order, 
and  that  it  is  his  interest  to  cling  to  it  as  the  strongest  barrier 
of  industry  and  of  peace.  See  what  dreadful  pictures  are 
drawn  in  the  Scriptures,  of  the  state  of  a  people  among  whom 
religion  is  universally  neglected. — When  a  people  are  turned 
away  from  the  worship  of  the  Lord  their  God,  Peace  fleeth 
away  from  the  midst  of  that  people,  and  they  are  given  up  to 
famine,  and  the  sword  ; — there  are  no  joyful  harvests  in  the 
land, — no  bleating  of  the  flocks,— -no  cheerful  noise  of  the 
artificer. — The  right  hand  forgets  its  cunning,^ — the  brow  is 
not  moistened  with  labour  ;»— they  speak  not  of  the  furrows 
of  the  field,  nor  glory  in  the  goad  ; — but  dreadful  lusts  rise 
up  in  those  times,  and  God  turneth  men  over  to  the  devices 
of  their  own  hearts. — These  are  the  days  in  which  the  needy 
are  forsaken  ; — and  the  fatherless  oppressed  : — then  it  goeth 
hard  with  just  men, — then  the  widow  is  spoiled,  then  the 
blood  of  innocents  is  shed  : — Come,  then,  under  the  roof  of 
the  Almighty,  and  gather  yourselves  under  the  shadow  of  his 
wings. — The  public  worship  of  God  is  the  ancient,  and  the 
sure  guardian  of  human  happiness  : — do  not  trifle  with  it 
as  if  it  were  of  no  avail;  justice,  and  faith,  and  mercy,  and 
kindness,  flow  from  the  altars  of  God, — it  is  here  that  men 
learn  to  pity ; — it  is  here  that  they  are  taught  to  forgive  ; 
— it  is  here  that  they  learn  punctuality  in  contracts,  obedi- 
ence to  magistrates,  submission  to  superiors,  respect  for  laws, 
loyalty  to  kings  ;  and  there,  above  ah,  it  is,  that  they  catch 
that  true  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  which,  meliorating  all  things, 
makes  submission  to  superiors  voluntary,  by  rendering 
superiors  gracious, — respect  for  laws  natural,  by  making 
laws  just, — the  loyalty  to  kings  pleasant,  by  making  kings 
good. 


SERMON   VL 

ON   FAST   DAY. 

February,  1808. 

Sanctify  ye  a  fast ',  call  a  solemn  assembly;  gather  the  elders,  and  all  the 
inhabitants  of  the  land,  into  the  house  of  the  Lord  our  God,  and  cry  unto 
the  Lord. — Joel  i.  verse  14. 

Fasting  has,  in  all  ages  and  among  all  nations,  been  an 
exercise  much  in  use  in  times  of  mourning  and  affliction. 
There  is  no  example  of  fasting,  properly  so  called,  before  the 
time  of  Moses ;  yet  it  is  presumable,  the  patriarchs  had  re- 
course to  that  religious  exercise,  since  we  see  that  there  were 
very  great  mournings  among  them ;  such  as  that  of  Abraham 
for  Sarah,  and  Jacob  for  his  son,  Joseph.  Moses  enjoins  no 
particular  fast,  in  his  five  books,  excepting  that  on  the  solemn 
day  of  expiation,  which  was  generally  and  strictly  observed. 
♦'  On  the  tenth  day  of  the  seventh  month,  ye  shall  afflict  your 
souls."  After  the  time  of  Moses,  examples  of  fasting  were 
very  common  among  the  Jews.  Joshua,  and  the  elders, 
remained  prostrate  before  the  ark,  from  morning  until  eve- 
ning, after  the  children  of  Israel  were  defeated  by  the  men  of 
Ai.  The  eleven  tribes,  which  had  taken  up  arms  against  that 
of  Benjamin,  seeing  they  could  not  hold  out  against  the  in- 
habitants of  Gibeah,  fell  down  upon  the  ark,  upon  their 
faces,  and,  in  this  manner,  continued  until  the  evening  with- 
out food.  The  very  heathens,  sometimes,  fasted ;  and  the 
King  of  Nineveh,  terrified  with  the  preaching  of  Jonas,  made 
an  order,  that  not  only  man  but  beast  also,  should  continue 
without  food  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  of  the  sun.  And 
the  Jews,  in  the  times  of  public  calamity,  made  even  children 
at  the  breast  fast.     It  does  not  appear,  from  the  practice  of 


48  ON  FAST  DAY. 

our  Saviour,  and  his  disciples,  that  he  instituted  any  particu- 
lar fast,  or  enjoined  any  to  be  kept  out  of  pure  devotion  ;  but 
when  the  Pharisees  reproached  him  that  his  disciples  did  not 
fast  as  often  as  their  disciples,  or  as  the  disciples  of  John  the 
Baptist,  his  reply  is,  "  Can  ye  make  the  children  of  the 
bridegroom  fast,  while  the  bridegroom  is  with  them  :  but 
the  day  shall  come  when  the  bridegroom  shall  be  taken  away 
from  them,  and  then  shall  they  fast  in  those  days  :"  clearly 
pointing  out  a  future  age  of  the  church,  when  fasting  would 
be  a  proper  and  expedient  institution.  Fasting  is,  likewise, 
confirmed  by  our  Saviour's  sermon  on  the  mount,  though  not 
as  a  stated,  yet  as  an  occasional  duty  of  Christians,  that 
through  these  means,  they  might  strengthen  their  sense  of 
dependence  upon  divine  Providence,  and  humble  their  souls 
before  the  afflicting  hand  of  God.  This  is  a  slight  sketch 
of  that  Scriptural  practice,  and  those  Scriptural  authorities 
upon  which  the  institution  of  fasting  depends.  It  has,  in 
itself,  this  peculiar  good,  that  it  provokes  attention,  by  inter- 
rupting ordinary  habits ;  the  flow  of  business,  and  pleasure, 
is  on  a  sudden  stopped ;  the  world  is  thrown  into  gloom,  and 
a  certain  solemnity  of  thought  obtruded  upon  those  whose 
outward  senses  must  be  influenced,  before  their  inward  hearts 
can  be  moved.  The  people  of  Nineveh  believed  in  God  and 
proclaimed  a  fast,  and  put  on  sackcloth,  from  the  greatest  to 
the  lowest;  and  the  king  arose  from  his  throne,  and  laid  his 
robe  from  him,  and  covered  him  with  sackcloth,  and  sat  in 
ashes,  and  cried  night  and  day  unto  God, 

The  object,  then,  of  this  day,  is  to  confess  our  sins  and  to 
repent  of  them;  and,  consequently,  the  object  of  the  ministers 
of  the  Gospel,  on  this  day,  is  to  state  what  those  sins  are,  what 
are  their  consequences,  and  how  they  may  be  avoided. 

Sins  maybe  considered  under  a  twofold  division;  those 
which  individuals  always  commit,  which  are  the  consequence 
of  our  fallen  state,  and  inseparable  from  our  frail  nature  ;  and 
those  which  are  the  result  of  any  particular  depravity,  exist- 
ing in  a  greater  degree  at  this  time  than  at  any  other  time,  or 
in  this  country,  than  among  any  other  people. 

With  respect  to  the  first  class  of  sins,  though  the  utmost 
degree  of  exertion  of  which  we  are  capable,  can  never  carry 
us  to  the  perfection  which  the  Gospel  requires,  or  make  us 
worthy  of  the  mercy  which  it  holds  forth,  still  it  is  right  to 
remind  mankind  of  those  imperfections,  inherent  in  their 
nature,  lest  they  should  relax  from  the  exertions  of  which  they 


;\ 


ON  FAST  DAY.  49^ 

are  really  capable ; — to  show,  to  the  best  of  human  creatures, 
that  they  are  still  miserable  sinners,  checks  that  arrogance 
which  is  so  apt  to  rise  up  in  our  hearts ;  compels  us  to  turn  our 
minds  away  from  the  imperfect  examples  of  goodness  we  can 
meet  with  here,  and  to  lift  them  up  to  that  image  of  purity 
which  makes  our  goodness  more  energetic,  more  proHfic,  and 
more  permanent :  to  put  us  out  of  conceit  with  our  own  ex- 
ertions, preserves  that  feeling  of  dependence  upon  an  higher 
power,  which  is  the  preservation  of  our  present,  and  the 
pledge  of  our  future  happiness.  If  our  Saviour  had  told  us, 
as  human  philosophers  have  told  us,  that  good  men  were 
glorious  and  dignified ;  if  he  had  dwelt  perpetually  upon  the 
grandeur  and  importance  of  virtue ;  upon  what  cheap  and 
easy  terms  would  men  have  been  contented  with  themselves  ; 
— how  soon  would  these  notions  of  their  own  dignity  have 
broken  that  chain  which  reaches  from  the  heart  of  man  to 
the  throne  of  God. — The  Gospel  now  says  there  are  eternal 
rewards,  and  there  are  eternal  punishments ;  to  gain  the  one 
and  to  avoid  the  other,  you  must  do  good  ;  but  you  must  add 
to  that  goodness  the  deepest  humility  and  the  firmest  depend- 
ance  upon  the  help  of  God.  You  must  not  look  backward 
upon  what  you  have  done,  but  forward  upon  what  you  have  to 
do.  You  must  consider  not  the  little  difference  between  you 
and  the  rest  of  your  species,  but  the  immeasurable  interval 
between  you  and  the  highest  purity;  and  you  must  gather 
from  these  reflections,  that  humihty  of  righteousness  which 
will  make  you  desirous  of  doing  more,  by  making  you  dis- 
satisfied with  what  you  have  done.  All  this  good  naturally 
follows  from  the  doctrine  of  man's  fallen  nature  ;  from  the 
profound  humility  which  the  Gospel  enjoins  to  him;  and  from 
the  impossibility  under  which  we  are  now  so  wisely  placed, 
of  claiming  any  merit  from  our  actions,  except  through  the 
mercy  and  mediation  of  Christ. 

Quitting  this  subject,  and  coming  now  to  that  part  of  our 
conduct  which  is  invariable,  to  that  small  and  contracted 
sphere  in  which  it  is  allotted  to  us  to  do  better,  or  do  worse, 
I  shall  begin  with  the  subject  of  religion ;  and  here  the  great 
evil  to  deplore,  and  the  afflicting  circumstance  which  cannot 
but  be  noticed  by  every  true  friend  of  the  orthodox  church,  is 
that  prodigious  increase  of  sectaries,  of  all  ranks  and  descrip- 
tions, which  are  daily  springing  up  in  this  kingdom,  and  fall- 
ing off  from  the  mother  church; — these  men  seem  to  think 
that  the  spirit  of  religion  consists  in  a  certain  fervid  irritability 
5 


W":-.  ON  FAST  DAY. 

of  mind;  and  that  agitation  and  eagerness  are  the  most  ac- 
ceptable sacrifices  which  they  can  make  to  their  Creator ; — 
the  calm  address  of  the  Estahhshed  Church  is,  in  their  estima- 
tion, a  species  of  impiety  ;  and,  before  he  prays  to  the  God  of 
heaven  and  earth,  an  human  being  must  lash  himself  up  into 
wildness  and  enthusiasm. 

Another  unfortunate  peculiarity  of  these  seceders  from  the- 
Established  Church  is,  that  they  are  always  straining  at  gnats, 
always  suspecting  happiness,  always  casting  over  rehgion  an 
air  of  something  bordering  upon  that  which  is  frivolous  and 
vexatious  ;  degrading  the  majesty  of  the  Gospel,  and  painting 
the  Lord  of  all  things  as  a  God  of  trifles  and  narrow  obser- 
vances ;  as  a  God  raging  forever  against  those  most  trivial 
omissions,  which  even  the  best  and  ablest  of  his  creatures 
can  forget  and  forgive.  But  the  most  fatal  of  all  errors  which 
proceeds  from  this  modern  fanaticism,  is  the  contempt  and  the 
horror  which  they  express  for  all  the  practical  doctrines  of 
Christianity  insisted  upon  from  the  pulpit ;  the  zeal  with  which 
they  cry  down  any  attempt  to  render  men  better  in  their  daily 
conduct,  and  to  produce  some  actual  useful  improvement. 
We  might  suppose,  from  such  notions  of  the  Christian  faith, 
that  Christianity  was  a  set  of  speculative  disquisitions,  where, 
if  a  man  agreed  only  with  the  barren  and  useless  results,  he 
was  left  in  liberty  to  follow  the  devices  of  his  own  heart,  and 
to  lead  what  manner  of  life  his  fancy  or  his  passions  might 
dictate.  It  is  evangelical,  according  to  these  notions,  to 
preach  to  men  of  high  and  exalted  mysteries  ;  it  is  unevange- 
lical  to  w^arn  men  against  pride,  against  anger,  against  avarice, 
against  fraud,  against  all  the  innumerable  temptations  by 
which  we  are  hurried  away  from  our  duty  to  our  Creator, 
and  from  the  great  care  of  salvation.  All  these  subjects  it 
is  now  in  the  practice  of  fanatics  to  call  by  the  name  of  moral, 
as  if  they  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Gospel,  as  if  (as  I  before 
observed),  the  Gospel  busied  itself  only  with  some  unfruitful 
propositions,  and  remained  quite  passive  at,  and  unconcerned 
by  the  actions  of  mankind.  But  let  any  man  turn  to  his 
Gospel,  and  see  if  there  is  a  single  instance  of  our  blessed 
Saviour's  life,  where  he  does  not  eagerly  seize  upon  every 
opportunity  of  inculcating  something  practical,  of  bringing 
some  passion  under  subjection,  of  promoting  the  happiness  of 
the  world,  by  teaching  his  followers  to  abstain  from  something 
hurtful ;  and  to  do  something  useful. — The  effort,  and  the  ob- 
ject, of  our  blessed  Saviour,  are  always  to  draw  scane  inference, 


ON  FAST  DAY.  51 

and  to  make  some  application  from  the  events  before  him ; — 
the  most  practical  book  that  ever  was  written  is  the  Gospel ; 
and  the  great  point  where  it  differs  from  human  morals,  is, 
that  human  morals  say,  do  so  for  present  convenience,  and 
the  Gospel  says,  do  so  for  eternal  reward ; — human  morals 
say,  do  so  because  it  has  appeared  to  wise  men  to  be  the  best 
rule  of  life ;  the  Gospel  says,  do  so  because  it  is  the  will  of 
God; — they  both  say  do  it,  but  they  differ  in  the  authority, 
and  the  motive,  as  much  as  Omniscience  differs  from  frailty, 
and  Eternity  from  time.  But  the  moment  fanatical  men  hear 
anything  plain  and  practical  introduced  into  religion,  then 
they  say  this  is  secular,  this  is  worldly,  this  is  moral,  this 
is  not  of  Christ. — I  am  sure  you  will  think  with  me,  that 
the  only  way  to  know  Christ,  is  not  to  make  our  notions  his 
notions,  or  to  substitute  any  conjectures  of  our  own  as  to  what 
religion  ought  to  be,  for  an  humble  and  faithful  inquiry  of 
what  it  is. — The  books  which  contain  the  word  of  life  are 
open  before  us,  and  every  one  may  judge  of  their  nature  and 
object;  if  they  consisted  of  lofty  and  sentimental  effusion;  if 
they  indulged  in  subtle  disquisition,  then,  perhaps,  it  might 
be  our  duty  to  appear  before  you,  sometimes  with  disordered 
feelings,  sometimes  with  the  spirit  of  profound  investigation  ; 
but  the  ministers  of  the  Established  Church  are  practical  in 
their  doctrines,  because  the  Scriptures  which  they  explain  are 
practical ;  when  they  attack  any  vice  to  which  the  nature  of 
man  is  subjected,  they  conceive  themselves  to  be  punctually 
fulfiUing  the  commands  of  their  great  master  ; — they  do  not 
believe  that  you  will  call  for  Tabana,  and  Farfar,  and  the 
rivers  of  Damascus,  because  God  has  commanded  you  to  wash 
in  the  waters  of  Israel ;  they  do  not  imagine  you  will  ask  for 
mystery,  when  it  has  pleased  God  to  give  you  that  which  is 
simple  and  intelligible ;  they  cannot  doubt  but  that  you  will 
remember,  though  morals  and  religion  teach  us  abstinence 
from  the  same  crimes,  that  abstinence,  in  the  one  case,  is  a 
question  of  prudence ;  in  the  other,  a  question  of  salvation ; — 
in  the  one  case,  we  only  believe  the  rule  to  be  right,  in  the 
other,  we  are  sure  it  is  right.  Can  any  man,  however  fond 
of  opposing  morals  to  religion,  suppose  that  the  practical  du- 
ties, which  may  be  found  in  the  Gospel,  were  first  taught  to 
mankind  by  the  Gospel?  does  he  imagine  that  there  were  not 
ten  thousand  books  before  the  coming  of  our  Saviour,  which 
said,  do  not  kill;  do  not  commit  adultery;  cultivate  benevo- 
lence ;  moderate  pride ;  follow  the  rules  of  temperance  ?    Our 


59  ON  FAST  DAY. 

Saviour  did  not  come  to  preacli  new  discoveries  to  mankind ; 
but  to  give  to  the  rules  of  conduct,  which  men  had  discovered 
"by  the  light  of  nature,  the  higher  authority  and  the  more 
powerful  motives  of  religion.  How,  then,  is  it  possible  to 
comply  with  those  unreasonable  persons,  who  require  some- 
thing totally  different  from  moral  rules,  before  they  will  allow 
that  you  are  saying  anything  about  religion  1  A  moralist 
and  a  religionist  must  both  equally  inculcate  charity  and  for- 
giveness of  injuries ;  when  you  hear  the  one,  you  say  it  is 
prudent,  and  expedient  to  act  so ;  when  you  listen  to  the  other, 
all  the  sublimity  of  good  and  evil  is  before  you,  and  you  are 
moved  by  an  eternity  of  joy  and  pain.  I  have  dwelt  long 
upon  this  erroneous  notion  of  rehgion,  because  it  is  one  of  the 
most  useful  weapons  of  fanaticism,  and  is  daily  producing, 
much  practical  mischief.  -^ 

There  is  a  contrary  excess  in  matters  of  religion,  not  ^less 
fatal  than  fanaticism,  and  still  more  common :  I  mean  that  lan- 
guor and  indifference  upon  serious  subjects'  which  characte- 
rize so  great  a  part  of  mankind ;  not  speculative  disbelief,  not 
profligate  scoffing  against  religion,  not  incompliance  with 
the  ceremonies  it  enjoins  ;  but  no  penetration  of  Christianity 
into  the  real  character ;  little  influence  of  the  Gospel  upon 
the  daily  conduct :  a  cold,  careless,  and  unfruitful  belief.  '  Let 
it  be  our  care  to  steer  between  these  opposite  extremes ;  tobe 
serious  without  being  enthusiastic ;  and  to  be  reasonable  with- 
out being  cold  ;'^alike  to  curb  the  excesses  of  those  who  have 
zeal  without  discretion,  and  to  stimulate  the  feelings  of  others, 
who  have  conformity  without  zeal ;  remembering  always  that 
everything  intended  to  endure,  must  be  regulated  by  mode- 
ration, discretion  and  knowledge. 

In  looking  abroad,  my  brethren,  to  consider  the  relation 
which  this  country  bears  to  the  other  nations  of  the  world,  and 
the  probable  destiny  which  awaits  it,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
tremble  at  the  perilous  uncertainty  of  human  affairs,  and  to 
bow  before  the  judgments  of  Almighty  God.  The  state  of 
the  world  is  like  the  vision  of  a  sick  man,  and  the  thoughts  of 
a  dreamer  of  dreams,  when  he  is  awakened  by  the  light  of 
the  morning  ;'^the  pageantry  of  the  earth  is  vanished  away, 
and  the  powers  and  principalities  which  existed  in  the  days 
of  our  youth,  known  only  by  their  names,  are  still  fast  fading 
away  from  the  memory  of  mankind.  All  these  have  fallen 
before  the  bad  ambition  of  him  who  is  directing  against  us 
the  last  efforts  of  his  genius  and  his  power ;  a  man  powerful 


ON  FAST  DAY.  63 

to  do  evil,  not  wise,  and  far-sighted  ;  and  patient  enough  to 
do  good ;  not  caring  for,  not  wishing  it ;  dedicated  to  uni- 
versal conquest  and  destruction ;  wishing  only  to  walk  over 
the  smoking  ashes  of  the  world,  and  to  be  remembered  by 
future  ages  as  a  passing  storm.  In  the  midst  of  this  outward 
wretchedness,  we  enjoy,  in  this  island,  the  internal  spectacle 
of  a  people,  unanimous  in  discharging  the  great  duties  which 
they  owe  to  their  country,  and  quite  prepared  to  submit  to 
every  privation,  if  the  only  price  of  quiet  affluence  is  submis- 
sion to  indignity.  If  it  is  beautiful  to  behold  this,  it  is  still 
-more  pleasing  to  reflect  upon  the  causes  by  which  that  una- 
nimity has  been  occasioned  ;  to  remember  those  laws  which 
have  long  administered  equal  justice  to  the  rich  and  poor, 
that  constitution  which  has  defined  the  power  of  those  who 
govern,  and  the  privileges  of  those  who  are  governed ;  and 
that  church,  which  for  three  centuries  has  been  instilling  the 
precepts  of  justice  and  manly  piety  into  the  hearts  of  the 
people.  These  are  beautiful  institutions,  which  have  always 
been  praised,  but  are  now  felt ;  they  are  the  institutions 
which  have  kept  us  in  life,  and  strength,  amid  the  ruin  of 
nations,  that  had  nothing  to  fight  for  but  the  caprices  of  their 
tyrants,;  and  nothing  to  guide  them  but  the  superstitions  of 
their  false  rehgion  ; — these  are  principles  which  must  secure 
to  us  a  safe  existence,  or  a  majestic  fall ;  if  our  sun  does  set, 
it  will  set  in  splendour ;  if  we  are  to  be  blotted  out  from  the 
powers  of  the  world,  we  shall  light  up,  in  ages  yet  unborn, 
the  flame  of  freedom ;  whenever  the  fullness  of  our  time  is 
come,  we  shall  leave  behind  us  a  page  of  history,  which  will 
appal  tyrants,  instruct  the  wise,  and  animate  the  brave ;  we 
shall  teach  mankind,  that  the  sword  is  used  abroad  with  the 
greatest  strength  where  the  sceptre  is  wielded  at  home  with 
the  most  perfect  justice  ; — we  shall  teach  them,  that  in  the 
great  convulsions  of  the  world,  the  people  which  remain  the 
longest,  and  suffer  the  least,  are  those  who  are  excited  to 
resistance  by  a  sense  of  the  enjoyments  which  they  are 
about  to  lose,  and  who  are  inured  to  a  confidence  in  Almighty 
God,  by  the  precepts  of  a  wise,  a  temperate,  and  a  feeling 
piety. 


SERMON   VII. 

ON    THE    UTILITY    OF    MEDITATING 
ON    DEATH. 


I  protest,  by  your  rejoicing,  which  I  have  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord,  I  die 
daily. — 1  Corinthians  xv.  verse  31. 

Thus  it  is  that  the  apostle  brought  daily  before  his  mind 
the  consideration  of  his  death ;  of  that  period  which  was  to 
terminate  the  good  and  evil  of  his  days ;  and  to  bring  him 
before  his  Saviour,  and  his  Judge.  He  exerted  his  ardent 
imagination  to  banish  the  consciousness  of  life  and  health,  to 
summon  up  images  of  sorrow,  and  to  draw  a  true  portrait  of 
that  solemn  and  suffering  day.  Let  us  see,  after  the  exam- 
ple of  this  great  minister  of  the  Gospel,  if  there  be  not  some 
wisdom  in  cherishing,  and  dwelling  upon,  these  occasional 
feelings  and  in  spreading  this  gloom  over  the  soul ;  a  gloom 
which,  like  the  shadow  of  Peter's  body,  gives  life  and 
strength  to  whatever  it  obscures.  The  general  subject,  then, 
of  my  discourse,  will  be  a  consideration  of  the  utility  which  is 
to  be  derived  from  the  meditation  on  death  ;  for  there  is  a 
sorrow  the  end  whereof  is  joy  ;  and  eternal  laughter  leadeth 
to  destruction.  It  is  better,  sometimes,  to  steal  from  the  glad- 
ness of  the  feast, — to  stop  the  joy  of  the  harp, — to  quench  the 
splendour  of  the  lamp, — to  put  off  the  wedding  garment, — 
and  to  speak  of  the  wretchedness  of  the  grave.  The  time 
must  come  when  this  soul  and  body  shall  be  rent  in  twain, 
— I  must  lay  on  my  last  bed  ;  and  the  darkness  of  death  shall 
hide  me  from  my  beloved  companions.  The  day  must  come, 
but  I  know  not  when  ;  the  feet  of  them  which  have  buried 
my  kindred  are  at  the  door  ; — it  may  be,  they  shall  carry  me 
out. 

One  great  advantage  of  the  meditation  on  death  is,  that  it 


ON  THE  UTILITY  OF  MEDITATING  ON  DEATH.  55 

leaches  us  to  value  all  earthly  things  aright;  and  perpetually 
corrects  the  fallacy  of  our  calculations,  by  reminding  us  of 
the  period  to  which  they  apply; — it  discourages  those  schemes 
of  fraud,  injustice  and  ambition,  the  fruits  of  which  are  dis- 
tant, by  reminding  us,  that  that  distance  we  may  never  reach, 
—that  death,  which  cuts  short  the  enjoyment,  leaves  us  with 
the  whole  load  of  guilt,  because  that  depends  on  the  design ; 
whereas,  it  gives  the  freest  scope  to  virtuous  exertions,  because 
they  have  their  full  merit  with  our  Heavenly  Judge,  how^ever 
they  may  be  interrupted  by  the  uncertainty  of  human  life. 
See  what  we  sacrifice  every  day  to  wealth  and  power,  for 
want  of  due  meditation  on  death ;  and  how  apt  we  are  to 
forget,  that  the  fruits  of  our  crimes  remain  but  for  the  passing 
moment; — when  comfort,  and  peace  of  mind,  and  proud 
integrity,  are  all  yielded  up,  we  cannot  enjoy  even  a  few 
years  of  tranquil  corruption  ; — we  have  yielded  up  all,  and  it 
is  now  time  to  yield  up  the  ghost ; — secure  to  me,  for  whole 
centuries,  the  wages  of  iniquity, — stop  in  me  the  gradual 
waste  of  life, — guard  me  from  the  stalking  pestilence,' — place 
me  on  the  pinnacle  of  power,  and  show  me,  beneath  my  feet, 
all  the  pleasures  of  the  world  ;  and  then  ask  me  to  pawn 
my  soul  unto  sin  ; — but  if  I  do  the  thing  which  is  evil  to 
day,  to-morrow  thou  canst  not  save  me  from  death, — and  the 
wasting  fever  may  not  leave  me  one  moment  of  guilty  re- 
nown. 

Meditation  on  death  improves  the  mind,  by  destroying  in 
it  trifling  discontents,  and  by  blunting  the  force  of  all  the 
malevolent  passions ; — the  feelings  of  malice,  jealousy  and 
hatred  cannot  co-exist  with  the  prospect  of  the  last  hour,  with 
the  notion  of  a  new  world,  and  the  terror  of  a  just  God  ; — the 
thought  of  an  eternal  parting  subdues  hatred,  and  produces, 
in  miniature,  all  the  effects  of  a  real  scene  of  death ;  it 
diminishes  the  importance  of  the  offence  we  have  suffered, 
awakens  that  candour  which  self-love  has  set  to  sleep,  and 
makes  us  think,  not  of  the  trifling  scenes  which  are  past,  but 
of  the  awful  events  which  are  to  come.  Such  a  disposition 
of  mind  severs,  at  once,  all  the  little  and  unworthy  attach- 
ments to  hfe,  and  prevents  us  from  grieving  at  small  evils, 
from  the  lively  representation  which  it  makes,  that  they 
cannot  endure ;  that  we  are  hastening  on  to  something  better, 
and  greater ;  and,  that  it  is  beneath  the  wisdom  and  firmness 
of  man  to  weep  and  lament  for  that  which  is  as  brief  in 
duration  as  it  is  insignificant  in  effect. 


iS5  ON  THE  UTILITY  OF  MEDITATING  ON  DEATH. 

Meditation  on  death  aggrandizes  the  mind,  as  the  near 
approach  of  death  itself  is  commonly  accustomed  to  do  ; — for, 
though  men  are  accused  of  acting  on  their  death-bed,  they 
usually  act  greatly,  and  evince  an  heroism  of  which  their 
lives  have  afforded  little  or  no  symptom.  For  what  are  the 
last  scenes  we  witness  of  dying  men?  A  forgiveness  of 
injuries,  which  should  have  been  forgiven  years  before  ;  an 
avowal  of  faults,  which  should  have  been  avowed  and  recti- 
fied before  half  the  race  of  life  was  run ;  a  confession  of 
Christ,  who  had  been  denied  before  the  world ;  sudden  and 
sublime  flashes  of  wisdom,  piety,  and  magnanimity,  which 
bear  no  relation  to  the  previous  life,  but  indicate  how  awful, 
and  how  omnipotent  are  the  warnings  of  death. 

If  the  distant  contemplation  of  death  cannot  so  effectually 
inspire  us  with  godly  thoughts,  it,  at  least,  leaves  us  greater 
time  for  godly  actions ; — whatever  seeds  it  casts  into  the 
mind  may  spring  up  and  fructify ;  none  of  its  energies  need 
be  barren ;  death  frustrates  none  of  its  admonitions ;  the 
feeblest  thought  of  piety  has  time  to  expand  itself  into  a  wise 
and  active  system  of  good  works. 

Meditation  on  death  induces  us  to  consider  by  what  means 
we  shall  avert  its  terrors;  when  our  hour  is  come  we  cannot 
discover  that  the  ordinary  objects  of  human  desire,  and  the 
ordinary  sources  of  human  gratification,  will  be  then  of  any 
avail ;  and  we  are  thus  led  by  an  happy  foresight,  to  lay  up 
the  remembrance  of  good  actions,  even  when  the  last  day  is 
still  far  distant  from  us.  Can  we  figure  to  ourselves  any- 
thing more  dreadful  than  an  human  being  at  the  brink  of  death, 
who  has  never  once  reflected  that  he  is  to  die?  To  hear 
those  cries  of  anguish,  to  which  nothing  human  can  now 
minister  relief? — to  behold  him  looking  up  to  the  warm  sun, 
and  clinging  to  the  cheerful  world  in  vain  ? — give  him  but 
another  year, — but  a  month, — but  a  day, — and  he  will  make 
some  preparations  for  death  !  The  widow's  heart  shall  sing 
with  joy,  and  the  hungry  be  filled  with  good  things ; — this 
is  the  unspeakable  wretchedness,  and  this  the  horrid  surprise 
which  it  is  the  great  business  of  Christian  wisdom  to  avoid. 
Let  us  rather,  in  the  middle  period  of  youth  and  strength, 
when  the  evil  day  is  yet  far  off,  commune  with  our  own 
hearts  in  the  stillness  of  our  chambers,  and  gather  a  decent 
firmness  for  that  trial;  and  when  we  pass  through  this 
shadow  of  death,  let  our  minds  be  pure  from  every  bad  pas- 
sion, as  they  must  be  at  the  true  death ;  and  when  we  have 


ON  THE  UTILITY  OF  MEDITATING  ON  DEATH.  57 

meditated  on  these  things,  and  forgiven  all  injuries,  and  pur- 
posed benevolent  deeds,  and  filled  our  minds  full  of  fear,  and 
fair  love,  and  holy  hope,  we  shall  go  back  with  new  hearts 
and  pleasures  unknown  before,  to  the  common  scenes  of  life. 

But  the  greatest  of  all  advantages  to  be  derived  from  the 
meditation  on  death,  is  the  prospect  of  that  eternity  to  which 
it  leads, — a  reflection  which  is  the  support  of  every  suffering, 
the  soul  of  every  pleasure,  and  the  source  of  every  virtue ; — 
it  prevents  that  weariness  which  the  sameness  of  life  is  so 
apt  to  produce ;  it  gives  a  motive  for  enduring  sorrow,  and 
for  conquering  passion,  by  opening  a  boundless  region  to  the 
fancy;  it  promises  ease  to  every  pain,  gratification  to  every 
desire,  and  enjoyment  to  every  hope.  In  the  contemplation 
of  a  second  existence  the  persecuted  man  figures  to  himself 
a  state  of  rest ;  the  poor,  an  exemption  from  want ;  the  sick, 
health;  the  weak,  power;  the  ignorant,  knowledge;  the 
timid,  safety;  the  mean,  glory.  In  the  contemplation  of 
eternity,  that  which  is  broken  is  bound  up ; — that  which  is 
lost  is  restored  ; — that  which  is  quenched  is  lighted  again  ; — 
the  parent  looks  for  his  lost  child  across  the  great  gulf ;  the 
wretched  widow  thinks  she  shall  see  the  husband  of  her 
youth ;  the  soul,  filled  with  holy  wishes,  hfts  itself  up  to  the 
great  Author  of  our  being,  who  has  sanctified  and  redeemed 
us  by  the  blood  of  Christ ;  who  has  given  cheerfulness  and 
dignity  to  our  existence,  and  made  the  short  agonies  of  death 
a  sure  prelude  to  immortal  life. 

But  we  must  not  make  our  comparison  between  voluntary 
meditation  on  death,  and  the  total  seclusion  of  the  idea ;  the 
choice  is,  shall  we  meditate  voluntarily  on  death,  as  a  religious 
exercise,  or  shall  we  be  haunted  by  the  image  of  death,  as  a 
terrific  spectre  ?  Shall  we  gain  wisdom  and  innocence  by 
meeting  the  danger,  or  shall  we,  like  children,  be  bribed  by 
the  tranquillity  of  a  moment,  to  keep  it  off^?  The  image  of 
death  follows  the  man  who  fears  it,  over  sea  and  land  ;  it  rises 
up  at  feasts  and  banquets  ;  no  melody  can  suit  it ;  no  sword 
and  spear  can  scare  it  away ;  it  is  undaunted  by  the  sceptre, 
or  the  crown ; — the  rich  man  may  add  field  to  field,  and  heap 
vineyard  upon  vineyard,  and  make  himself  alone  upon  the 
earth,  but  death's  image  strides  over  his  towers,  and  walks 
through  his  plains,  and  breaks  into  his  nightly  bed,  and  fills 
his  soul  with  secret  fear!  All  men  suffer  from  the  dread  of 
death ;  it  is  folly  to  hope  you  can  escape  it. — Our  business  is 


9  as  THE  XJTILITY  OF  HEEDITATING  €N  DEATH. 

to  receive  the  image,  to  gaze  upon  it,  to  prepare  for  it,  to  seek 
it;  and,  by  these  means,  to  disarm. 

It  is  the  greatest  of  all  errors,  to  attempt  to  escape  this  feel- 
ing, by  averting  the  mind  from  it ;  and  there  are  many  conso- 
lations, which  the  steady  contemplation  of  it  affords,  by  which 
the  magnitude  of  its  terrors  is  circumscribed,  and  the  idea  of 
death  rendered  more  tolerable  to  the  mind  of  man. 

In  our  sympathy  with  the  dead,  we  think  not  so  much  of 
the  real  importance  of  their  situation ;  of  the  awful  futurity 
which  awaits  them  from  the  judgment  of  their  Saviour ;  but 
we  think  it  miserable  for  them  to  be  deprived  of  the  sight  of 
the  sun  ;  to  be  shut  out  from  human  intercourse,  and  laid  in 
the  cold  grave,  a  prey  to  corruption,  and  the  reptiles  of  the 
earth ;  to  be  no  more  thought  of  in  this  world,  but  to  be  obli- 
terated, in  a  little  time,  from  the  memory  of  their  dearest 
friends  and  relations ;— the  happiness  of  the  dead,  however, 
is  affected  by  none  of  these  things ;  nor  is  it  such  circum- 
stances which  can  disturb  their  profound  repose ;  they  are 
sleeping  in  their  dust,  unconscious  of  the  mouldering  scene 
around  them ;  nor  will  they  awaken  any  more,  till  the  last 
trumpet  calls  them  to  the  judgment  of  Christ.  Therefore, 
reflection  may  at  once  cut  off  all  this  outward  scenery  of 
death ;  whatever  it  is,  the  dead  know  it  not ;  nor  is  it  wise  to 
inflame,  by  all  the  terrors  of  imagination,  an  evil  in  which 
there  are  so  many  realities  to  dread ;  neither  are  we  to  sup- 
pose that  death,  coming  at  last,  is  so  unwelcome  as  our  fancy, 
viewing  it  at  a  distance,  would  lead  us  to  suppose ;— -long 
sickness  induces  a  weariness  of  life ;  the  body  is  comfortless 
in  old  age ;  and  it  deadens  the  mind  ;  our  friends  are  all  gone 
before  us ;  perhaps  our  kindred,  and  our  children ;  every 
succeeding  year  dissolves  some  tie  which  binds  us  to  the 
world ;  extinguishes  some  affection ;  annihilates  some  power ; 
weakens  some  appetite ;  impairs  some  excellence ;  so  that 
we  perish,  day  after  day,  till  little  of  the  true  man  remains, 
and  the  grave  has  but  a  small  portion  to  receive. 

Meditation  on  death  teaches  us,  that  the  evil  is  not  without 
its  remedy  ;  that  foresight  can  diminish  that  evil ;  that  it  is 
an  evil  which  may  be  brought  within  the  compass  of  our 
own  swa}^  and  dominion  ;  and  that,  though  we  must  all  die, 
it  rests  with  us  to  determine  upon  the  feelings  with  which 
we  shall  die,  by  adopting  that  course  of  actions  from  which 
those  feelings  must  proceed  ;'^and  this  appears  to  me  to  be 
the  great  use  and  purpose  of  thinking  on  death  ;  not  to  think 


ON  THE  UTILITY  OF  MEDITATING  ON  DEATH.  59 

of  that  damp  earth,  and  that  dreary  tomb,  and  those  childish 
terrors,  of  which  the  dead  feel  and  know  nothing;  but  to 
impress  upon  our  hearts  this  truth,  that,  through  Christ,  we 
are  become  the  lords  of  death,  and  masters  over  all  the  sor- 
row and  lamentation  which  death  carries  in  its  train ;  that 
the  mere  separation  of  matter  and  spirit  is  a  pang  of  so 
short  a  moment,  that  it  is  hardly  a  rational  object  of  fear ; 
that  the  real  pang  is  the  remembrance  of  a  misspent  life ;  of 
every  act  that  has  been  cruel,  unkind,  and  unjust ;  of  time 
dissipated  ;  talents  misapplied ;  man  injured ;  and  God  for- 
gotten. If  you  think  the  accumulation  of  such  thoughts  and 
such  recollections  as  these,  is  awful,  take  care  that  they  do 
not  accumulate ;  if  you  dread  such  agonies  of  spirit,  look  to 
their  origin,  and  to  their  cause  ;  remember  the  great  apostle  ; 
draw  near  to  God,  while  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world  are 
yet  before  you ;  give  up  to  him  some  portion  of  youth  and 
health  ;  wait  not  till  disease  enables  you  to  offer  up  only  the 
remnants  and  leavings  of  life  ;  but  die  daily,,  before  half  your 
career  is  run  ;  anticipate  the  last  day ;  imagine  a  mighty 
God  ;  adore  his  purity ;  supplicate  his  mercy  ;  tremble  at  his 
power ;— be  not  so  rash,  and  so  mad,  as  to  let  the  salvation 
of  your  souls  depend  upon  whether  the  air  of  this  day  is 
noxious,  or  pure  ;  whether  the  blasts  of  heaven  shall  be  a 
little  too  damp,  or  a  little  too  cold ;  but  be  always  ready  for 
death ;  think,  like  a  man  engaged  in  warfare,  that  you  can- 
not call  an  hour  your  own ;  and  be  assured  of  this,  that  death, 
mere  animal  death,  is  nothing ;  it  is  often  better  than  life, 
and  thousands  welcome  its  approach  ;  but  the  sting  of  death 
is  sin,  and  we  know  that  victory  which  Christ  has  gained 
over  sin,  by  dying  daily ;  therefore,  we  may  tear  out  that 
sting,  and  welcome  a  gentle  death,  as  the  end  of  every  sor- 
row, and  the  harbinger  of  greater  and  nobler  joys. 


SMIP 


im 


•j$$ 


■)*■%'?>:■ 


SEKMON   VIII. 

BLIND. 


Truly,  the  light  is  sweet,  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold 
the  sun. — Ecclesiabtes  xi.  verse  7. 

If  any  man  were  to  require,  at  my  hands,  a  proof  of  the 
authenticity  of  that  Gospel  by  the  principles  of  which  we 
have  this  day  been  edified,  and  in  obedience  to  which  we  are* 
now  gathered  together,  after  I  had  laid  before  him  the  cogent 
and  the  luminous  reasoning  which  men,  mighty  in  the 
Scriptures,  have  put  forth  to  confound  impiety,  and  to  resolve 
doubt,  after  I  had  read  to  him  the  words  of  that  Saviour  who 
spake  as  never  man  spake  before,  after  I  had  strove  by  these 
means  to  teach  him  that,  though  shrouded  in  the  tomb,  he 
would  behold  his  Redeemer  on  the  last  day,  I  would  turn  to 
the  daily  life,  and  the  daily  mercies  of  Christians  ;  I  would 
say,  let  us  judge  the  tree  by  its  fruit  ;  if  it  is  productive  only 
of  idle  ceremonies  and  trifling  observances,  hew  it  down,  and 
cast  it  into  the  flames  :  but  if  it  can  cause  the  lame  to  walk, 
the  leper  to  be  cleansed,  the  deaf  to  hear,  and  the  Wind  to 
receive  their  sight, — if  it  brings  forth,  in  their  due  season,  the 
fruits  of  mercy,  then  is  that  tree  planted  by  God, — then  are 
its  roots  too  deep  for  the  tempest, — then  shall  its  branches 
flourish  to  the  clouds, — then  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
gather  under  its  shade. 

Try  it,  then,  by  this  test ;  refer  the  proofs  of  the  Gospel's 
authenticity  to  the  criterion  of  active  provident  compassion. 
— It  studies  classes,  and  relieves  every  misery  of  our  nature ; 
it  is  not  sufficient  for  the  refined,  and  zealous  benevolence  of 
these  times,  to  confuse  the  varieties  of  misfortune,  by  extend- 
ing the  same  indiscriminate  aid  to  sufferers,  who  agree  in 
nothing  but  the  common  characteristic  of  grief; — each  indi- 


FOR  THE  BLIND.  61 

vidual  calamity  experiences  a  distinct  compassion,  is  cherished 
with  its  appropriate  comforts,  and  healed  by  its  specific  re- 
medies.— The  maniac  is  shut  out  from  the  tumults  of  the 
world,  the  Magdalene  weeps  over  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  and 
washes  his  name  with  her  tears  ; — a  mother  is  given  to  the 
foundling,— a  Samaritan  to  the  wounded, — the  drowned 
person  is  called  hack  from  the  dead, — the  forsaken  youth  is 
snatched  from  the  dominion  of  vice, — a  soul  is  breathed  into 
the  deaf  and  dumb, — and  the  child-bearing  woman,  when  she 
thinks  of  the  days  of  her  anguish,  knoweth  that  she  has 
where  to  lay  her  head.  In  every  corner  of  this  Christian 
country,  some  edifice  rises  up  consecrated  to  mercy  ; — a  vast 
hospital,  a  place  of  wounds  and  anguish, — a  tabernacle  of 
healing,  ample  enough  to  call  down  the  blessings  of  God 
upon  a  city,  and  to  wipe  out  half  their  sins.  In  the  midst  of 
this  magnificent  benevolence,  the  children  of  the  Gospel  have 
not  forgotten  the  misfortunes  of  the  blind  ;  they  have  pitied 
their  long  darkness,  and  remembered  that  the  light  is  sweet, 
that  it  is  a  pleasant  thing  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun. 

The  object  of  the  society  for  which  I  am  now  to  implore 
your  protection,  is  to  diminish  the  misfortune  of  blindness, 
by  giving  to  those  afflicted  with  it,  the  means  of  obtaining 
support  by  their  ingenuity  and  labour,  and  of  walking  in 
the  law  of  Christ,  by  attending  to  the  religious  instructions 
and  exercises  prescribed  by  this  institution.  They  are 
instructed  in  a  variety  of  works  for  which  manual  skill  is 
requisite,  rather  than  bodily  labour,  and  which  they  perform 
with  a  dexterity  astonishing  to  those  who  have  connected 
with  blindness  the  notion  of  absolute  helplessness  and  inca- 
pacity. 

A  charitable  institution,  conducted  upon  such  principles  as 
the  asylum  for  the  blind,  is  superior  to  any  common  charity, 
as  it  interweaves  science  with  compassion  ;  and,  by  showing 
how  far  the  other  senses  are  capable  of  improvement,  takes 
off  from  the  extent  of  human  calamity  all  that  it  adds  to  the 
limits  of  human  knowledge.  Who  could  have  imagined,  to 
speak  of  a  kindred  instance  of  ingenious  benevolence,  that 
the  deaf  and  dumb  could  be  taught  to  reason,  to  speak,  and 
to  become  acquainted  with  all  the  terms  and  intricate  laws 
of  a  language;  or  that  men,  who  had  never,  from  their  earhest 
infancy,  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  sight,  could  be  taught  to 
read  and  to  write ;  to  print  books,  and  the  ablest  of  them  to 
penetrate  into  all  the  depths  of  mathematical  learning  ?  S  uch 
6 


63 


FOR  THE  BLIND.. 


facts  afford  inexhaustible  encouragement  to  men  engaged  in 
the  benevolent  task  of  instructing  those  in  whom  the  ordinary 
inlets  of  knowledge  are  blocked  up. — They  seem  to  place 
within  our  reach  the  miracles  of  those  Scriptures  from  whence 
they  have  sprung,  and  to  show  the  fervent  votary  of  Christ, 
that  he,  also,  like  his  great  Master,  can  make  the  deaf  hear, 
the  dumb  speak,  and  the  Wind  see. 

Consider  the  deplorable  union  of  indigence  and  blindness, 
and  what  manner  of  life  it  is  from  which  you  are  rescuing 
these  unhappy  people ;  the  Wind  man  comes  out  in  the 
morning  season  to  cry  aloud  for  his  food ; — when  he  hears 
no  longer  the  feet  of  men  he  knows  that  it  is  night,  and  gets 
him  back  to  the  silence  and  the  famine  of  his  cell.  Active 
poverty  becomes  rich;  labour  and  prudence  are  rewarded 
with  distinction :  the  weak  of  the  earth  have  risen  up  to  be 
strong;  but  he  is  ever  dismal,  and  ever  forsaken  !  The  man 
who  comes  back  to  his  native  city  after  years  of  absence, 
beholds  again  the  same  extended  hand  into  which  he  cast  his 
boyish  alms  ;  the  self-same  spot,  the  old  attitude  of  sadness, 
the  ancient  cry  of  sorrow,  the  intolerable  sight  of  a  human 
being  that  has  grown  old  in  supphcating  a  miserable  support 
for  a  helpless,  mutilated  frame, — such  is  the  life  these  unfor- 
tunate children  would  lead,  had  they  no  friend  to  appeal  to 
your  compassion,' — such  are  the  evils  we  will  continue  to 
remedy,  if  they  experience  from  you  that  compassion  which 
their  magnitude  so  amply  deserves. 

The  author  of  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes  has  told  us  that  the 
light  is  sweet,  that  it  is  a  pleasant  thing  for  the  eyes  to  be- 
hold the  sun ;  the  sense  of  sight  is,  indeed,  the  highest  bodily 
privilege,  the  purest  physical  pleasure,  which  man  has  de- 
rived from  his  Creator :  To  see  that  wandering  fire,  after  he 
has  finished  his  journey  through  the  nations,  coming  back 
to  us  in  the  eastern  heavens ;  the  mountains  painted  with 
hght ;  the  floating  splendour  of  the  sea ;  the  earth  waking 
from  deep  slumber ;  the  day  flowing  down  the  sides  of  the 
hills,  till  it  reaches  the  secret  valleys  ;  the  little  insect  recalled 
to  life ;  the  bird  trying  her  wings ;  man  going  forth  to  his 
labour;  each  created  being  moving,  thinking,  acting,  con- 
triving according  to  the  scheme  and  compass  of  its  nature  ; 
by  force,  by  cunning,  by  reason,  by  necessity, — is  it  possible 
to  joy  in  this  animated  scene  and  feel  no  pity  for  the  sons  of 
darkness  ?  for  the  eyes  that  will  never  taste  the  sweet  light  ? 
for  the  poor,  clouded  in  everlasting  gloom  ? — If  you  ask  me 


TOR  THE  BLIND.  63 

why  they  are  miserable  and  dejected,  I  turn  you  to  the 
plentiful  valleys ;  to  the  fields  now  bringing  forth  their  in- 
crease ;  to  the  freshness  and  the  flowers  of  the  earth ;  to  the 
endless  variety  of  its  colours ;  to  the  grace,  the  symmetry, 
the  shape  of  all  it  cherishes,  and  all  it  bears ;  these  you  have 
forgotten  because  you  have  always  enjoyed  them ;  but  these 
are  the  means  by  which  God  Almighty  makes  man  what  he 
is  ;  cheerful,  lively,  erect ;  full  of  enterprize  mutable,  glanc- 
ing from  Heaven  to  earth  ;  prone  to  labour  and  to  act. — Why 
was  not  the  earth  left  without  form  and  void?  Why  was 
not  darkness  suffered  to  remain  on  the  face  of  the  deep  ? 
Why  did  God  place  lights  in  the  firmament  for  days,  for 
seasons,  for  signs,  and  for  years? — that  he  might  make  man 
the  happiest  of  beings,  that  he  might  give  to  this  his  favourite 
creation  a  wider  scope,  a  more  permanent  duration ;  a  richer 
diversity  of  joy :  this  is  the  reason  why  the  blind  are  mise- 
rable and  dejected,  because  their  soul  is  mutilated  and  dis- 
membered of  its  best  sense  ;  because  they  are  a  laughter  and 
a  ruin,  and  the  boys  of  the  streets  mock  at  their  stumbHng 
feet ;  therefore  I  implore  you,  by  the  Son  of  David,  have 
mercy  on  the  blind :  if  there  is  not  pity  for  all  sorrows,  turn 
the  full  and  perfect  man  to  meet  the  inclemency  of  fate :  let 
not  those  who  have  never  tasted  the  pleasures  of  existence, 
be  assailed  by  any  of  its  sorrows  ; — the  eyes  which  are  never 
gladdened  by  light  should  never  stream  with  tears. 

Nothing  is  more  commonly  known,  than  that  those  who 
are  born  blind  cannot  form  the  smallest  notion  of  colours 
and  of  light ;  it  is  impossible,  however,  they  should  hear  the 
pleasures  derivable  from  sight  so  frequently  spoken  of  by 
others,  without  comparing  them  with  other  sources  of  gratifi- 
cation with  which  they  happen  to  be  acquainted ;  it  is  an 
affecting  and  interesting  circumstance  in  the  annals  of  one* 
who  had  himself  been  Wind  from  his  infancy,  that  the  simili- 
tude he  was  always  apt  to  frame  for  the  unknown  pleasures 
of  sight,  were  the  pleasures  of  virtue  and  religion  to  his  pious 
and  ardent  imagination ;  the  landscape  of  the  evening  was 
like  the  close  of  a  well  spent  life ;  friendship  and  pity  were 
the  full  stream  and  the  green  pasture ;  the  Gospel  was  the 
day  spring  from  on  high. 

There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  sight  of  the  human  countenance, 
greater  than  any  derived  from  the   contemplation  of  those 

*  Dr.  Blacklock. 


64  FOR  THE  BLIND. 

objects  to  which  we  bear  a  cold  and  a  distant  relation ;  it  is 
pleasant  to  the  heart  of  man  to  be  met  with  looks  of  kindness 
and  regard ;  to  see  a  countenance  that  promises  support  in 
the  evil  day,  that  reminds  us  of  ancient  attachments,  and 
family  love  :  that  carries  the  awful  signs  of  those  feelings 
and  passions  which  must  influence  our  future  fate.  Which 
of  you  that  expects  to  see  a  long  absent  brother,  or  a  child 
returning  from  the  perils  of  war  and  of  distant  lands  ;  which 
of  you  would  forego  the  pleasure  of  tracing  every  lineament 
of  his  face,  and  reading  on  his  features  the  language  of  deep 
and  ardent  aflJection?  Ask  of  these  unhappy  children  what 
they  would  sacrifice  that  they  might  see,  were  it  only  for  an 
instant,  the  mother  that  nursed  them ;  the  guide  that  led 
them  out ;  the  brother  that  has  treated  them  kindly  and  gently 
in  their  infant  days  ?  But  brother,  and  parent,  and  guide,  and 
friend,  are  one  to  them ;  they  know  not  the  signs  of  nature, 
the  looks  of  mercy,  and  the  smiles  of  love. 

Another  source  of  misery  to  the  blind,  is  their  defenceless 
weakness  of  body  ;  they  can  neither  foresee  evil,  ascertain 
its  nature,  nor  avert  its  consequences.  If  they  venture  a  step 
from  their  usual  haunts,  every  spot  on  which  they  tread  is 
pregnant  with  some  new  danger ; — the  earth  seems  to  them 
a  continued  precipice.-— The  blind,  says  a  very  excellent 
writer,  who  had  himself  never  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  sight ; 
the  blind  not  only  may  be,  but  actually  are,  during  a  con- 
siderable period,  apprehensive  of  danger  in  every  motion 
towards  any  place  from  whence  their  contracted  powers  of 
perception  give  them  no  intelligence.  All  the  various  modes 
of  delicate  proportion  ;  all  the  beautiful  varieties  of  lights  and 
colours  ;  whether  exhibited  in  the  works  of  nature,  or  of  art ; 
are  to  them  irretrievably  lost ; — dependent  for  everything, 
except  mere  subsistence,  on  the  good  offices  of  others ;  ob- 
noxious to  injury  from  every  point,  which  they  are  neither 
capacitated  to  receive,  nor  quahfied  to  resist,  they  are,  during 
the  present  state  of  being,  rather  prisoners  at  large,  than 
citizens  of  nature. 

To  estimate  the  advantages  of  sight,  or  of  any  other  blessing 
coeval  with  life,  we  should  call  in  the  force  of  constrast,  and 
consider  what  the  condition  of  man  would  have  been,  had  it 
pleased  God  to  create  him  without  it.  Devoid  of  sight,  man 
would  acquire  his  knowledge  of  the  properties  of  bodies, 
slowly,  singly,  and  with  extreme  uncertainty ; — the  sluggish 
current  of  his  ideas  would  render  him  unfit  for  enterprize,  his 


FOR  THE  BLIND.  ^ 

submission  to  every  danger  passive,  or  his  opposition  fruitless 
and  confused ; — some  faint  intelligence  he  would  derive  from 
sound ;  but  he  could  receive  few  accurate  notions  from  any- 
greater  distance  than  he  could  reach.  From  all  that  knowledge 
of  bodies  which  we  derive  from  an  acquaintance  with  their 
affinities  to  light ;  and  which,  to  us,  are  the  signs  of  vigour 
and  decay,  salubrity  and  harm;  youth  and  age;  hatred  and 
love;  he  would  be  eternally  precluded; — his  mind  must 
necessarily  be  exercised  upon  diminutive  objects ;  because, 
though  a  long-continued  series  of  touches  would  give  him  an 
accurate  notion  of  each  part  touched,  he  could  not,  from  such 
disconnected  intelligence,  collect  the  notion  of  a  single  indi- 
vidual mass.  The  works  of  God  thus  broken  into  baubles, 
and  given  to  him  bit  by  bit,  what  can  this  truncated,  mutilated 
being  know  of  the  wisdom  and  power  of  his  Creator  ? — Open 
to  him  now  the  visible  world  ;  he  penetrates  into  distant 
space ; — he  sees,  at  one  glance,  millions  of  objects ; — he  views 
the  breadth,  and  depth,  and  altitude  of  things  ; — he  perceives 
there  is  a  God  among  the  aged  streams,  and  the  perpetual 
mountains,  and  the  everlasting  hills. 

My  brethren,  as  no  other  topic  worthy  of  your  attention 
presses  upon  me,  I  conclude  with  recommending  most  earnest- 
ly these  distressed  objects  to  your  notice ;  and  I  remind  you 
how  merciful  our  blessed  Saviour  was  wont  to  show  himself 
to  their  afflictions.  BHnd  Bartimeus  sat  by  the  way-side  beg- 
ging; and,  as  the  crowd  passed  by,  he  cried,  with  a  loud 
voice,  "  Thou  son  of  David  have  mercy  on  me."  Jesus  stop- 
ped the  multitude ;  and,  before  them  all,  restored  him  to  his 
sight.  The  first  thing  that  he  saw,  who  never  saw  before, 
was  the  Son  of  God.  These  blind  persons,  like  Bartimeus, 
will  never  see,  till  they  behold  their  Redeemer  on  the  last 
day;  not  as  he  then  was,  in  his  earthly  shape,  but  girded  by 
all  the  host  of  heaven  ; — the  judge  of  nations  ; — the  everlast- 
ing counsellor ;— the  prince  of  peace.  At  that  hour,  this 
heaven  and  earth  will  pass  away,  and  all  things  melt  with 
fervent  heat ; — but,  in  the  wreck  of  worlds,  no  tittle  of  mercy 
shall  perish,  and  the  deeds  of  the  just  shall  be  recorded  in  thQ 
mind  of  God, 


i'l  'i'V 


SEEM  ON   IX. 

ON    DUTY  TO    PARENTS. 


And  this  is  the  fifth  Commandment.  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother, 
that  thy  days  may  be  long  in  the  land,  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth 
thee. 

It  is  almost  superfluous  to  observe  upon  the  importance  of 
this  law  to  the  welfare  and  tranquillity  of  society,  as  it  places 
the  young  under  the  tuition,  not  only  of  the  old  and  the  ex- 
perienced, but  of  those  whom  affection  urges  to  seize  on  all  the 
resources  which  age  and  experience  can  suggest  for  their 
advantage. 

The  law  orders  and  the  magistrate  executes ;  but  the  law 
would  be  vain  and  the  magistrate  powerless,  if  the  parent  did 
not  dispose  the  minds  of  his  children  for  the  reception  of  that 
law,  and  prepare  them,  by  obedience  to  him,  for  submission 
to  those  whom  he  himself  obeys. 

In  proportion,  therefore,  as  this  great  virtue  of  filial  obe- 
dience is  ingrafted  upon  the  manners  of  any  country,  in  the 
same  proportion  will  decency  and  good  order  prevail  there ; 
and  every  precept  of  the  Gospel  be  more  deeply  engraven  in 
the  minds,  and  uniformly  displayed  in  the  actions  of  that 
people. 

We  may  observe,  that  this  command  of  Almighty  God  is 
conveyed  in  a  very  comprehensive  expression, — honour  thy 
father  and  thy  mother; — not  simply  support,  or  defend  them; 
but  honour  them, — a  term  which  comprehends  not  only  the 
grosser  and  more  obvious  duties  of  preserving  them  from 
want  and  protecting  them  from  violence,  but  secures  to  them 
delicate  attentions ;  studies  them  with  eager  and  inquisitive 
affection ;  screens  them  with  partial  judgments ;  soothes  them 
with  profound  veneration ;  repays  to  them  all  that  fine  care. 


ON  DUTY  TO  PARENTS.  67 

which  has  averted  the  perils  of  infant  life  and  brought  out  an 
human  being  to  the  perfection  of  his  reason,  and  the  summit 
of  his  strength. 

In  handhng  this  branch  of  Christian  doctrine,  I  shall  en- 
deavour, first,  to  show  what  are  the  ordinary  obstacles  to  a 
right  performance  of  this  duty ;  secondly,  to  point  out  in  what 
the  duty  principally  consists. 

To  the  repayment  of  those  obligations  which  we  owe  to  our 
parents,  there  is  one  very  considerable,  and  very  singular  ob- 
stacle ;  the  immensity  of  those  obHgations  themselves. — We 
have  lived  in  such  a  constant  state  of  protection  from  our 
parents,  in  the  uniform  reception  of  so  much  kindness,  that 
their  benevolence  wants  the  effect  of  contrast  to  produce  its 
just  impression  upon  our  minds  ;  the  benefits  we  experience 
from  our  neighbours  awaken  our  attention,  because  they  are 
actions  superior  to  the  ordinary  tenour  of  their  benevolence  ; 
but  we  do  not  notice  the  kindness  of  a  parent,  because  he  has 
been  always  kind ;  we  are  less  sensible  to  his  bounties,  be- 
cause we  have  never  experienced  any  interruption  of  them 
for  a  single  instant ;  they  are  like  health,  and  strength,  and 
youth ;  where  custom  blunts  the  edge  of  enjoyment,  and  the 
magnitude  of  the  possession  is  only  discovered  by  the  misery 
of  the  loss.  It  is  also  a  little  in  the  genius  of  human  nature, 
to  think  obligations  burthensome,  and  to  become  careless  of 
remuneration,  when  they  are  so  great,  that  it  is  very  difficult 
to  discharge  those  obligations  effectually,  and  to  make  that 
remuneration  complete;  thus,  while  smaller  instances  of 
friendship  are  repaid  with  precision  and  with  pride,  the 
greatest  of  all  benefactors  are  sometimes  treated  with  ingrati- 
tude from  the  very  extent  and  compass  of  their  goodness. 

Another  circumstance,  which  blunts  the  sense  of  fihal  ob- 
ligation is,  that  the  kindness  of  parents,  one  of  the  most  com- 
mon of  all  virtues,  appears  so  natural  from  every  human 
being  towards  his  offspring,  that  though  it  would  be  shocking 
to  want  it,  it  is  considered  as  not  meritorious  to  possess  it. — 
But  observe,  why  this  virtue  of  parental  kindness  is  common, 
because  it  is  also  common  to  receive  a  return  for  it  in  filial 
obedience  ; — nature  has  laid  the  foundation  ;  the  expectation 
of  reaping  the  sweets  of  parental  kindness,  justified  by  the 
feeling  of  all  men,  in  all  ages,  has  done  much  more.  To  deny 
the  obligations  which  you  owe  to  parents,  because  it  is  com- 
mon in  all  parents  to  do  good  to  their  children,  is  to  withhold 
the  reward  which  principally  makes  that  kindness  so  com- 


68  ON  DUTY  TO  PARENTS. 

mon  ;  and  to  frustrate  as  much  as  in  you  lies,  this  great  com- 
mandment of  Almighty  God.  For,  consider  to  what  the  kind- 
ness of  parents  would  soon  be  reduced,  if  it  were  generally 
claimed  as  a  matter  of  right ;  and  how  soon,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  compulsion,  the  most  expanded  benevolence  would 
contract  itself  into  the  narrowest  and  most  inconsiderable 
hmits. 

But  the  affection  of  parents,  it  may  be  urged,  is  a  feeling 
of  nature ;  therefore  they  have  no  merit  in  obeying  it,  but  is 
not  every  act  of  Christian  righteousness  founded  on  some 
feehng  of  nature  ?  Is  compassion  no  virtue  ?  Is  courage, 
rightly  exercised,  no  virtue  ?  Is  gratitude  no  virtue  ?  Is  the 
fear  of  offending  no  virtue  ?  All  these  qualities  are  provided 
for  by  nature, — all  these  qualities  men  call  virtues, — all  these 
quahties  Christ  taught,  practised,  and  possessed  ;  to  deny 
merit  to  actions,  because  we  are  prompted  to  them  by  nature, 
is  to  put  an  end  at  once  to  all  human  virtues,  because  there 
is  not  a  single  one  to  which  we  are  not  carried  by  some  ori- 
ginal principle  of  our  nature.  It  must  be  observed,  too,  that, 
on  every  occasion,  we  are  impelled  by  the  constitution  of  our 
minds  to  two  opposite  systems  of  action ;  and  that  merit  and 
duty  consist  in  selecting  the  right  propensity :  Fear  prompts 
us  to  fly,  shame  to  remain,  gratitude  to  remunerate,  avarice 
to  withhold,  parental  affection  to  cherish,  selfishness  to  ne- 
glect. That  man  is  righteous  who,  in  the  conflict  of  passions, 
subdues  those  feelings  which  God  has  given  us  to  be  sub- 
dued; and  obeys  those  feehngs  which  he  has  given  us  to  be 
obeyed. 

The  sense  of  those  obligations  we  owe  to  our  parents,  is 
frequently  impaired  by  the  lapse  of  time  since  those  obliga- 
tions have  been  incurred;  the  season  of  infancy  is  passed  away 
like  a  dream ;  the  dangerous  impetuosity  of  youth  is  sub- 
sided: we  feel  strong  and  wise,  and  forget  the  days  of  weak- 
ness, and  the  nursing  father  and  the  nursing  mother  of  the 
times  that  are  gone  ; — we  remember  these  things  no  more ; 
but  they  hve  in  the  memory  of  the  old,  and  it  seemeth  hard 
to  them  that  they  should  no  more  be  had  in  remembrance. 

These  are  some  of  the  principal  reasons  which  impede  us 
in  this  duty  of  honouring  our  parents.  Let  us  now  see  how 
this  duty  itself  is  to  be  performed. 

There  are  few  men,  in  the  present  state  of  society,  (soft- 
ened as  the  human  heart  is  by  the  Gospel  of  Christ,)  who,  on 
great  and  glaring  occasions,  would  be  deficient  in  duty  to 


ON  DUTY  TO  PARENTS.  ^ 

their  parents ;  who  would  suffer  them  to  perish  hy  want ;  or 
would  refuse  to  rescue  them  from  aggression.  Such  sort  of 
occasions  very  rarely  occur ;  and,  therefore,  he  who  comforts 
himself,  that  he  would,  in  the  cause  of  his  parents,  display 
this  species  of  alacrity,  should  remember,  however  excellent 
his  intentions  may  be,  that  he  will,  most  probably,  pass 
through  life,  without  ever  putting  them  to  the  test.  There 
are  little  sacrifices  of  daily  occurrence,  which,  in  a  series  of 
years,  contribute  as  materially  to  the  happiness  of  a  parent, 
and  which,  because  they  are  obscure,  and  have  no  swelling 
sentiments  to  support  them,  are  more  difficult  for  a  continua- 
tion than  more  splendid  actions.  Every  man  has  little  in- 
firmities of  temper  and  disposition,  which  require  forgiveness; 
peculiarities  which  should  be  managed;  prejudices  which 
should  be  avoided ;  innocent  habits  which  should  be  indulged; 
fixed  opinions  which  should  be  treated  with  respect;  parti- 
cular feelings  and  delicacies  which  should  be  consulted ;  all 
this  may  be  done  without  the  slightest  violation  of  truth,  or 
the  most  trifling  infringement  of  religion ;  these  are  the  sacri- 
fices which  repay  a  man,  in  the  decline  of  his  life,  for  all 
that  he  has  sacrificed  in  the  commencement  of  yours  ;  this 
makes  a  parent  delight  in  his  children,  and  repose  on  them, 
when  his  mind  and  his  body  are  perishing  away,  and  he  is 
hastening  on  to  the  end  of  all  things. — Consider  that  he  has 
been  used  to  govern  you  ;  that  (however  you  may  have  for- 
gotten it)  the  remembrance  is  fresh  to  him,  of  that  hour,  when 
you  stood  before  him  as  a  child,  and  he  was  to  you  as  a  God. 
Bear  with  him  in  his  old  age  ;  pain  and  sickness  have  made 
him  what  you  see  ;  he  has  been  galled  by  the  injustice,  per- 
haps, and  stung  by  the  ingratitude  of  men;  let  him  not  see 
that  old  age  is  coming  upon  him,  that  his  temper  is  impaired, 
or  that  his  wisdom  is  diminished ;  but  as  the  infirmities  of  life 
double  upon  him,  double  you  your  kindness  ;  make  him  re*  * 
spectable  to  himself,  soothe  him,  comfort  him,  honour  your 
father  and  your  mother,  that  your  days  may  be  long,  that  you 
may  be  justified  by  your  own  heart,  and  honoured  by  the 
children  which  God  giveth  to  you. 

Parents  are  honoured  by  the  strict  and  sacred  concealment-*^ 
of  any  faults  they  may  be  discovered  to  possess.  A  good 
son  will  be  loth  to  suppose  that  his  parents  have  any  faults ; 
►—but  he  must  be  the  worst,  and  wickedest  of  men,  who  un- 
veils their  nakedness,  and  avails  himself  of  those  occasions 
which  their  protection  has  given  him,  to  study  their  weak- 


70  ON  DUTY  TO  PARENTS. 

nesses,  and  to  expose  them  to  a  merciless  world.  Neither 
is  it  only  the  duty  of  a  child  not  to  publish  the  faults  of  his 
parents;  let  him  take  every  fair  and  judicious  opportunity 
of  mentioning  their  virtues, — their  justice, — their  kindness, 
— their  forbearance, — their  zeal  to  promote  the  welfare  of 
their  offspring : — in  this  way  a  man  is  honoured  by  his  chil- 
dren ;  such  testimony  of  children,  prudently  and  modestly 
delivered,  the  world  always  receives  with  favour  and  esteem, 
as  they  ought  to  do  that  rectitude  of  conduct  in  the  parent 
which  has  impressed  itself  so  deeply  on  the  mind  of  the 
child. 

I  need  not  add  to  my  explanation  of  what  is  meant  by 
honouring  a  parent, — the  necessity  of  obeying  him,  in  all 
things  lawful, — of  consulting  him  in  all  the  important  pro- 
ceedings of  our  lives, — of  referring  to  his  advice  and  instruc- 
tion in  every  difficulty,  —  of  showing  that  we  feel,  on  all 
occasions,  the  strength  of  that  sacred  connection  which  binds 
us  to  the  authors  of  our  existence. 

No  man,  perhaps,  can  feel  with  sufficient  energy  all  those 
duties  which  he  owes  to  his  parents,  before  he  himself  is  a 

"-•fjarent,  and  stands  in  the  same  relation  to  other  human 
beings. — It  is  then  he  begins  to  perceive  that  the  fears  are 
real ;   that  all  the  watchings  and  all  the  anxieties  are  true ; — 

■"-that  God  has  made  nothing  so  timid,  so  kind,  so  good,  as  the 
heart  of  a  parent ; — it  is  then  you  will  discover  why  a  parent 
is  wounded  by  the  slightest  neglect,  why  he  is  more  sensitive 
in  all  his  joys  and  sorrows, — why  he  rejoices  in  your  faintest 
glory, — why  he  mourns  over  your  least  disquietude, — why 
he  follows  you  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  with  an  affection 
which  no  labour  can  disgust,  no  peril  intimidate,  and  which 
scarcely  the  blackest  ingratitude  can  ever  dissolve.  Even 
the  rebellion  of  Absalom  could  not  extinguish  the  affection 
of  David ;  but  his  victory  was  turned  into  mourning ;  the 
king  forgot  that  he  was  safe  upon  the  throne  of  Israel,  and 
called  night  and  day  for  his  son,  weeping  in  the  chamber 
over  the  gate,  and  wishing  that  God  had  smitten  him  with 
death. 

It  should  be  a  great  incitement  to  the  performance  of  this 
duty,  that  when  the  time  comes  for  repenting  that  we  have 
neglected  it,  when  the  Httle  personal  feuds  and  jealousies 
which  blind  our  understanding  are  at  an  end,  and  it  becomes 
plain  to  the  judge,  within  the  breast,  that  we  have  often  ne- 
glected the  authors  of  our  being,  often  given  them  unneces- 


ON  DUTY  TO  PARENTS.  *  71 

sary  pain ; — when  these  feelings  rush  upon  us,  it  too  often 
happens  that  all  reparation  is  impossible  ;  they  are  gone,  the 
grave  hides  them,  and  all  that  remains  of  father  and  of 
mother  are  the  dust  and  the  ashes  of  their  tombs.  In  all 
other  injuries  the  chance  of  repairing  them  may  endure  as 
long  as  life  itself,  but  it  is  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  that 
the  parent  should  perish  before  the  child ;  and  it  is  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  nature  also,  that  repentance  should  be  most 
bitter  when  it  is  the  most  inefTectual. 

This  commandment  to  honour  parents  may,  in  fact,  be 
rendered  subservient  to  every  virtue,  and  may  be  obeyed  as 
the  mean  of  enforcing  every  law  of  the  Gospel, — honour  your 
father  and  your  mother;  honour  them  with  your  lives,  by 
your  spotless  integrity,  by  keeping  yourselves  void  of  offence 
towards  God  and  man.  If  revenge  prompts  you  to  break 
through  human  laws,  and  makes  you  prodigal  of  life,  forgive, 
for  the  love  of  your  parents ; — If  indolence  and  sloth  avert 
you  from  honourable  competition,  rouse  yourself,  that  the 
praises  which  men  bestow  upon  you,  may  warm  the  hearts 
of  your  parents ; — whenever  you  are  about  to  do  anything 
that  is  wrong,  remember  there  are  a  father  and  a  mother 
whose  hearts  you  will  tear  with  anguish ; — have  pity  upon 
them,  and  bear  them  in  mind  in  all  you  do;  if  you  are  disho- 
nourable, they  cannot  be  honoured  ;  if  you  are  in  wretchedness, 
they  cannot  rejoice  ; — they  will  burn  with  your  glory  ;  they 
will  blush  with  your  shame  ; — they  have  smiled  upon  your 
cradle,  they  will  weep  on  your  tomb. 

In  fine,  to  fulfil  this  great  duly  is  an  act  of  rehgion,  as  it 
is  one  of  the  commandments  of  Almighty  God.  It  is  a  duty 
most  creditable  to  the  heart  of  him  who  fulfils  it,  because  it 
is  an  obscure  duty,  and  one  of  long  continuance ;  yet  it  is 
base  to  say,  I  have  forgotten  the  wants  and  miseries  of  my 
childhood,  and,  because  I  am  now  strong,  I  will  not  remem- 
ber that  I  was  ever  weak  ; — it  is  cruel  to  laugh  at  that  wis- 
dom, in  its  decay,  which  has  guided  us  in  its  perfection ; — 
though  his  tongue  falter,  and  though  he  is  bowed  down,  he 
is  still  thy  father; — forsake  him  not,  but  comfort  him  as  he 
has  comforted  thee  ;  and  if  thy  days  are  long  in  the  land,  at 
the  latest,  and  the  last  of  those  days,  thou  shalt  feel  that  peace 
which  they  only  can  feel  who  honour  the  authors  of  their 
being  and  obey  the  commandments  of  their  God. 


^ 


SEEM  ON   X. 

ON    THE    GOVERNMENT    OF    HEART. 

His  heart  is  established,  he  shall  not  be  afraid. — Psalm  cxii.  verse  8. 

The  Psalmist,  in  stating  the  happiness  of  a  righteous  man, 
comes,  at  last,  to  that  essential  part  of  it,  the  government  of 
the  heart ;  and,  impressed  with  the  security  which  such  a 
state  of  thoughts  and  feelings  must  afford,  says,  his  heart  is 
established,  he  shall  not  be  afraid. 

The  Psalmist  means,  I  should  suppose,  by  this  establish- 
ment of  heart,  an  habitual  regulation  of  passions,  opinions  and 
imagination  ; — a  suspicious  examination,  not  of  our  actions, 
but  of  the  motives  of  our  actions  ;  and  such  a  government  of 
the  thoughts  as  is  most  likely  to  conduce  to  a  moral  and 
religious  life. 

I  shall,  therefore,  endeavour  to  enforce  such  valuable  doc- 
trine, and  to  unfold  the  principles  on  which  it  is  founded. 

The  intimate  connection  between  our  ideas  and  our  actions, 
is  such,  that,  as  often  as  the  moment  comes  for  doing,  or  for 
abstaining,  every  previous  thought  which  has  been  harboured 
in  the  understanding  rushes  in,  and  exercises  a  share  of  in- 
fluence in  the  decision. — The  pleasing  pictures  of  sin  we 
have  drawn,  in  the  absence  of  temptation,  dazzle  us,  in  its 
presence,  with  a  more  brilliant  colouring,  become  more  vivid, 
more  artful,  and  more  resistless ;  when  the  moment  arrives 
for  actual  gratification,  we  do  not  forget  the  gratification  we 
have  enjoyed,  by  anticipation,  when  conscience  should  rise 
up  in  all  its  terrors  ;  we  cannot  exclude  from  our  minds  all 
the  previous  sophistry  with  which  it  has  been  disarmed, 
when  the  terror  of  God  should  alarm  us ;  by  this  vicious 
indulgence  of  our  thoughts  we  have  lessened  our  sense  of 
his  vigilance,  buoyed  up  our  spirits  with  the  fallacious  pro- 
mise of  future  repentance,  or  cast  from  us,  altogether,  the 


ON  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  HEART.  73 

shackles  and  bondage  of  religion.  It  is  no  wonder  that  men 
should  so  often  yield  to  temptation,  when  they  trust  to  the 
casual  virtue  of  the  moment,  and  bring  to  the  contest  feelings 
which  have  never  been  subjected  to  a  single  instant  of  dis- 
cipline and  control : — When  they  abolish  every  outpost, 
rase  every  advanced  defence,  and  trust  everything  to  the 
strength  of  the  inward  fortress  alone.  Virtue  under  such  a 
system  as  this,  is  not  only  difficult,  it  is  almost  impossible ; — 
it  is  the  result  of  accident,  depending  upon  circumstances, 
which  he,  whom  they  influence,  can  neither  explain  nor 
command ;  it  is  not  that  virtue  which  flows  from  a  trained 
and  disciplined  heart,  the  effects  of  which  are  uniform ;  and, 
as  far  as  we  may  say  so  of  what  belongs  to  our  fallen  nature, 
certain.  To  make  virtue  easy,  we  must  lay  the  foundations 
of  it  in  thought ;  when  the  temptation  is  not  present,  it  is 
easy  to  find  reasonings  against  it ; — and,  when  it  is  at  hand, 
there  are,  then,  many  confirmed  opinions  and  inveterate 
aversions  to  guard  us  from  its  influence :  he  who  has  cau- 
tiously excluded  from  his  mind  pictures  of  vicious  gratifica- 
tion, and  considered  a  bad  life  rather  with  respect  to  the 
permanent  evil  it  inflicts  than  the  transient  pleasure  it  affords, 
will  be  more  likely  to  see,  in  real  vice,  horror  than  allure- 
ment ; — he  will  dwell  rather  on  the  rewards  than  the  diffi- 
culties of  virtue  ;  if  he  has  spurned,  even  in  thought,  that 
worldly  good  which  is  purchased  by  sin,  he  will,  in  action, 
trample  it  beneath  his  feet ; — if  he  has  enjoyed  in  fancy  the 
sweet  security  of  an  irreproachable  life,  he  will  not  yield  it 
up  to  the  gold  of  Ophir  ;  if  he  has  taught  himself  to  shudder 
at  the  thought,  even  of  disguised  crimes,  he  will  throw  open 
the  gates  of  his  soul,  and  defy  the  keenest  inquisition  of  the 
human  race  ;  his  deeds  will  be  pure  as  the  heavens,  lofty  as 
the  hills,  and  clear  as  the  light.  On  the  contrary,  most  men 
give  the  full  rein  to  their  thoughts ;  and,  as  long  as  they 
abstain  from  the  action,  liberally  indulge  in  the  notion ;  they 
never  think  of  stopping  till  they  have  inflamed  themselves 
with  every  possible  incentive  to  advance  ;  or,  of  abstaining 
till  their  appetite  is  sharpened  to  the  keenest  edge  ;  they 
make  a  perpetual  variance  between  deeds  and  desires, 
aggravate  the  horror  of  what  must  be  done,  and  magnify  the 
importance  of  what  cannot  be  obtained ;  and  this,  not  to 
increase,  but  to  diminish  the  evils  of  life  ;  it  is  done  to  in- 
demnify ourselves  by  the  luxurious  enjoyments  of  the 
imagination,  for  the  obstacles  opposed  to  our  pleasures,  as 


f.^  ON  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  HEARTi 

if  those  obstacles  which  cannot,  and  which  ought  not,  to  be 
overcome,  are  not  much  more  intolerable,  from  their  imaginary- 
removal,  than  they  would  be  from  a  cheerful  acquiescence  in 
the  purposes  for  which  they  were  created ;  and  submission 
to  the  wisdom  which  gave  them  birth. 

There  seems  to  be,  in  the  apprehension  of  some  men,  a 
sort  of  cruelty,  in  extending  the  empire  of  religion  over  the 
thoughts  ; — it  wears  the  appearance  of  vexatious  inquisition, 
which  disturbs  harmless  enjoyment,  and  punishes  the  ap- 
pearance of  happiness  wherever  it  can  be  discovered :  the 
fact  is  so  much  the  reverse,  that  if  the  idea  of  duty  is  to  be 
admitted  at  all ;  if  the  Gospel  of  Christ  is  to  establish  a  bad, 
and  a  good,  in  human  actions  ;  it  could  have  suggested  no 
other  method  so  effectual  to  enforce  obedience  to  its  precepts, 
as  the  government  of  the  thoughts ;  because  it  employs  the 
power  of  virtue,  at  a  time  when  opposition  to  vice  is  not 
arduous,  or  difficult ;  when  temptation  is  without  form,  and 
void ;  before  the  dangerous  eloquence  of  the  senses  has 
roused  the  bad  passions  :  instead  of  creating  an  additional 
call  upon  the  energy  and  labour  of  man,  it  fixes  upon  him  a 
much  lighter  burthen,  and  binds  him  to  a  much  easier  yoke  ; 
it  opposes  him  not  to  vivid  perceptions,  but  to  faint  anticipa- 
tions ;  it  arrays  him  not  against  the  real  presence,  but  the 
ghost  and  shadow  of  sin ;  while  it  gives  to  virtue  inward 
peace  and  outward  respect :  softening  its  privations,  diminish- 
ing its  suffering  ;  and  forgetting  its  toils. — Such  are  the  results 
of  that  discipline  which  we  deem  oppressive  tyranny  over  the 
thoughts  ;  such  are  the  salutary  pictures  which  our  natural 
love  of  virtue,  sheltered  from  actual  temptation,  will  soon 
enable  us  to  draw. 

Neither  can  this  discipline  of  the  thoughts  be  regarded  with 
any  colour  of  justice,  as  trivial,  or  inadequate  to  the  efforts 
which  has  produced  it ;  for  I  am  not  contending,  that  it  is  an 
useful  discipline  ;  but  that  it  is  an  indispensable  discipline  ; 
not  that  it  is  an  auxiliary  to  the  highest  virtues ;  but  a 
necessary  foundation  for  the  lowest  and  the  least:  it  is  not 
possible  that  that  man  should  walk  outwardly  in  the  law  of 
God,  who  is  for  ever  feeding  in  imagination  upon  the  pleasures 
of  sin. — The  passions  will  at  last  act ;  the  seed  will  break 
through  the  incumbent  obstacle ;  the  vice,  which  has  been  so 
often  pictured,  (because  to  draw  such  pictures  is  considered 
as  compatible  with  innocence,)  will  be  imitated  to  the  life  with 
fatal  and  unerring  precision. 


<m  THIS  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  HEAffT:  it 

Having  thus  touched  upon  the  necessity  of  governing-  the 
heart,  and  handled  a  few  superficial  prejudices,  which  may- 
render  us  less  willing  to  submit  to  this  invaluable  discipline, 
I  shall  endeavour,  with  God's  help,  to  lay  down  a  few  rules 
for  its  more  easy  attainment. 

There  is  an  old  apophthegm,  which  says,  reverence  thyself, 
and  in  this  saying,  much  sound  wisdom  is  locked  up.  If  we 
had  half  the  reverence  for  ourselves  that  we  have  for  the 
world,  how  upright  and  how  pure  would  our  conduct  be  ; 
we  should  carry  about  with  us  an  inward  judge,  whose 
vigilance  we  should  fear  ;  whose  justice  we  should  respect ; 
and  whose  praise  we  should  love  ;  an  awful  judge  ;  the  man 
within  the  breast ;  whose  tribunal  would  extend  over  the 
motives  of  actions,  who  would  approve  virtue,  while  it  yet 
only  glowed  in  the  thoughts,  and  discover  crime  in  the  secret 
workings  of  the  soul ; — this  principle  of  self-love  would  effec- 
tually banish  from  our  minds  every  vicious  indulgence  of 
thought ;  and  every  low,  ignominious  feeling ;  we  should  no 
longer  wear  virtue  as  a  mask,  but  all  that  we  do  now  from 
conformity,  and  the  fear  of  shame,  we  should  do  then  from 
rooted  principle,  and  passionate  love  of  God. 

Secondly,  the  heart  is  estabhshedby  prayer  because  prayer 
recalls  to  us  the  mercy  of  God  for  our  love,  his  justice  for  our 
terror,  and  his  perfections  for  our  imitation ;  it  reminds  us  of 
the  frailty  of  man,  and  makes  us  rationally  suspicious  of  our- 
selves ; — it  brings  before  us  the  crucified  Saviour  of  mankind, 
and  in  his  image,  personifies  every  virtue  ; — it  turns  our 
thoughts  from  men  to  angels ;  from  frailty  to  perfection  ;  from 
a  few  evil  days  to  an  happy  eternity  ;  from  a  jumble  of  sighs 
and  joys,  to  a  gladness  that  endureth  for  ever. 

Again  the  heart  is  governed,  by  impressing  on  our  recol- 
lection the  intimate  connection  between  thought  and  action  ; 
and  by  making  the  propriety  of  the  one  the  test  of  propriety 
in  the  other ;  if  it  is  wrong  to  gratify  revenge,  it  is  wrong  to 
dwell  on  it  in  imagination  ;  if  it  is  our  duty  to  forgive  out- 
wardly, it  is  our  duty  to  forgive  from  our  inward  hearts ;  if 
we  are  to  withstand  the  allurements  of  pleasure,  we  must  not 
contemplate  them ;— -if  we  are  to  support  painful  duties,  we 
must  not  magnify  them  in  our  thoughts  ; — whatever  we  are 
forbidden  to  do,  we  are  forbidden  to  think ;  whatever  we  are 
commanded  to  perform,  we  are  commanded  to  love :  there 
must  be  no  discordance  between  the  inward  and  the  outward 


7d         ON  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  HEART# 

man  ;  thought,  word  and  deed  must  be  constantly  and  closely 
united  together ;  there  are,  indeed,  a  purity  in  this  doctrine, 
and  a  wisdom,  which  give  to  the  Gospel  one  cause  of  its 
superiority  over  the  spurious  religions  which  are  so  widely 
diffused  over  the  world,  that,  whereas  they  look  wholly  to 
the  mere  overt  act,  like  an  human  law,  Christianity  com- 
mences its  empire  from  the  first  dawn  of  thought ;  and,  by 
influencing  the  causes  of  actions,  makes  virtue  more  easy 
and  more  permanent. 

The  heart  is  governed  by  tracing  up  our  pains  and  plea- 
sures to  their  source;  whenever  we  enjoy  any  pleasure 
unalloyed  by  dissatisfaction,  it  will  be  found,  almost  always, 
to  proceed  from  the  performance  of  duty,  as  our  miseries 
will  from  the  neglect  of  it ;  and  the  repetition  of  this  exercise 
will  insensibly  impress  upon  our  minds,  the  inseparable  con- 
nection between  virtue  and  happiness :  there  is  nothing,  for 
instance,  so  likely  to  cure  us  of  selfishness,  as  the  gloom  and 
uneasiness  with  which  it  never  fails  to  be  attended,  or  so 
likely  to  reconcile  us  to  the  immediate  efforts  of  the  social 
virtues,  as  the  cheerfulness  and  interest  in  common  life 
which  they  always  communicate  to  their  possessor:  when 
we  have  traced  up  lassitude  and  remorse  to  the  waste  of 
time,  we  shall  employ  it  with  more  economy  and  vigour : 
when  we  have  discovered  that  we  pay  in  languor  of  body 
and  loss  of  reputation  for  the  pleasures  of  excess,  we  shall 
be  gradually  reconciled  to  moderation ;  when  we  have  found 
out  in  the  heart,  the  springs  of  joy  and  pain,  we  shall  learn 
to  keep  them  aright. 

A  steady  employment  of  time,  and  a  vigorous  exercise  of. 
the  intellectual  faculties,  are  no  mean  auxiliaries  to  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  heart ;  for  our  minds,  made  to  overcome  diffi- 
culties, either  lose  their  powers  entirely  when  they  are  with- 
out an  object,  or  turn  those  powers  inwardly  to  consume 
themselves  :  It  is  clear,  that  we  have  no  power  to  summon 
up  particular  ideas  at  pleasure ;  and  it  is  equally  clear,  if  we 
cannot  summon  them  up,  their  occurrence  is  involuntary, 
and  free  from  guilt ;  but  when  ideas  are  present,  it  is  in  our 
power  to  decide  whether  we  will  dwell  upon  and  expand 
them ;  whether  we  will  summon  up  every  notion  to  which 
they  happen  to  be  related,  or  whether  we  will  oppose  the 
power  of  Satan,  and  resist  the  peril  of  unhallowed  images : 
hence,  the  use  of  intellectual  exertion  and  previous  habits  of 
labour  in  the  government  of  the  heart,  that  we  are  no  longer 


ON  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  HEART.         TlT 

at  the  mercy  of  every  dangerous  fancy,  and  every  wanton 
image  penciled  by  the  passions ;  we  can  fix  our  eyes  steadily 
upon  intellectual  objects,  and  find  in  the  cultivation  of  our 
understandings  the  noblest  security  for  the  innocence  of  our 
lives.  The  greater  part  of  our  wretchedness,  real  and  chi- 
merical, of  our  vices,  and  of  the  mistaken  views  we  are  so 
unfortunately  apt  to  take  of  human  life,  proceed  from  the 
want  of  something  to  do ;  think  we  must,  and  if  not  of  that 
which  is  ornamental,  or  useful,  certainly,  of  that  which  is 
pernicious ;  and  let  it  never  be  forgotten,  that  as  often  as  we 
give  ourselves  up  to  the  dominion  of  vicious  thoughts,  there 
is  never  wanting  an  abundance  of  ingenious  words,  which 
consult  the  delicacy  of  a  bashful  sinner,  and  veil  the  deform-^ 
ity  of  vice.  A  weariness  of  the  decent  restrictions  hnposed 
by  society,  is  warmth  of  heart  and  liberality  of  sentiment ; 
whatever  is  licentious  is  romantic ;  whatever  is  base,  is  pru- 
dent ;  extravagance  is  generosity ;  contempt  of  public  virtue, 
practical  good  sense ;  and  ignorant  skepticism,  enlightened 
superiority  to  prejudice.  » 

The  important  practice  I  am  endeavouring  to  inculcate,^, 
will  be  powerfully  promoted,  by  cherishing  a  love  of  open- ' 
ness  and  a  detestation  of  hypocrisy ;  by  living  as  it  were  in 
public ;  by  scorning  to  maintain  one  character  before  the 
world,  and  another  in  the  secret  places  of  the  heart ;— -if  this 
slavery  of  the  mind,  this  necessity  of  fearing  and  hiding  our- 
selves from  our  fellow-creatures,  were  painted  in  glowing- 
colours  to  the  free  and  noble  feelings  of  youth,  it  would  have 
no  small  tendency  to  encourage  purity  of  thought;  and  would 
convert  the  proud  defiance,  natural  to  that  time  of  life,  to  the 
wisest  of  all  purposes."— To  feel  for  the  judgment  of  the  world 
unfeigned  respect,  is  the  property  of  a  wise  man;  but  to 
know  that  any  human  being  may,  eventually,  have  it  in  his 
power  to  treat  us  with  merited  contempt  and  infamy,  and 
that  we  owe  our  reputation  only  to  the  ignorance  of  those 
with  whom  we  are  in  repute,  is  a  feeling  which  can  never 
exist  long  in  the  mind  of  him  who  has  listened  to  the  advice 
of  my  text,  and  laboured  earnestly  that  his  heart  should  be 
established  aright. 

There  is,  above  all,  for  the  obtaining  of  this  habit,  an  awful 
sense  of  the  ever-during  presence  of  God,  and  a  dread  of  lay- 
ing open,  to  his  pure  spirit,  a  carnal  and  voluptuous  soul: — 
The  same  God,  who  dwelleth  above,  hath  his  ways  upon 
earth ;  he  numbers  the  sanctities  of  Heaven,  and  knoweth 

7* 


T8r        ON  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  HEART. 

the  thoughts  of  man  ;  he  searches  where  the  planets  wander ;  ^ 
and  walketh  in  the  paths  of  the  mind.  Remember,  also,  the 
pure  severity  of  the  Gospel,  which  punishes  the  adultery  of 
the  heart ;  which  resents  the  malice  of  the  thoughts ;  and 
ordains  that  words  of  pardon  and  of  peace  should  come  from 
the  very  springs  of  the  heart.  If  we  can  refrain  from  real 
vice,  we  will  not  lose  the  reward  of  our  firmness  by  the  poor 
•enjoyments  of  imaginary  gratification ;  if  we  have  overcome 
the  greater  difficulty,  we  will  not  yield  to  the  less ;  if  the 
terrors  of  an  hereafter  have  made  our  lives  pure,  we  will  not 
perish  because  our  thoughts  are  evil, 

I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  impress  upon  you  the  import- 
ance of  estabhshing  the  heart,  as  it  renders  righteousness 
more  secure,  and  more  easy ;  those  who  have  ever  practised 
this  truly  Christian  disciphne,  can  need  no  other  incentive  to 
its  continuation  than  the  immediate  pleasure  they  have  de- 
rived from  it ;  and  that  feeling  of  inviolable  security  which 
must  ever  be  the  lot  of  those  in  whom  outward  and  visible 
virtue  is  the  accurate  sign  of  inward  and  spiritual  purity. 
If,  by  a  vigorous  exertion  of  our  own  powers,  and  by  earnest 
prayer  to  God,  we  can  guard  from  pollution  this  fountain  of 
evil  and  of  good,  we  have  httle  to  fear  from  all  which  the 
world  can  inflict ;  and  at  the  moment  when  this  mortal  body 
is  crumbHng  into  dust,  the  heart,  estabhshed  in  upright 
thoughts,  shall  animate  the  dying  Christian,  and  strengthen 
his  faith  in  the  mercies  of  his  God. 


■m^^0i^jmm 


SERMON  XL 

ON   GOOD  FRIDAY 


And  Jesus  J  crying  with  a  loud  voice,  gave  up  the  ghost. — St.  Matthew 
XV.  VERSE  37. 

The  last  scenes  of  our  Saviour's  life,  and  the  particular 
circumstances  of  his  death,  are  fit  subjects  for  examination, 
either  as  they  afford  an  additional  example  of  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  religion,  or  a  practical  example  of  morality.  Whe- 
ther we  would  learn  how  persecution  is  to  be  endured,  and 
death  and  adversity  supported ;  or  would  try,  by  the  events 
of  so  critical  a  period,  the  authenticity  of  our  Saviour's  mis- 
sion, this  part  of  the  Gospel  history  ought  powerfully  to  arrest 
and  deeply  to  engage  our  attention. 

To  try  the  character  of  the  founder  of  our  religion  by  the 
last  scenes  of  his  life,  is  to  subject  it  to  the  most  candid  of 
all  tests ;  for  if  there  had  been  fanaticism,  it  is  probable,  and 
conformable  to  experience,  that  the  approach  of  death  would 
have  lowered  that  fanaticism  to  abject  fear,  or  exalted  it  to 
high  passion;  if  there  had  been  imposture,  it  is  probable 
that  the  love  of  life  and  hope  of  impunity  would  have  pro- 
duced either  a  full  confession  of  the  artifice,  or  those  signs 
of  fluctuation  and  doubt  which  a  bad  man  is  so  apt  to  display 
when  his  life  depends  upon  the  success  of  his  falsehood.  If, 
on  the  contrary,  the  last  scenes  of  that  life  display  mildness, 
simplicity,  firmness  and  majesty ;  if  they  harmonize  with 
every  other  period  of  his  existence,  they  sanction  our  belief 
in  the  divinity  of  Christ,  and  they  deserve  our  imitation,  our 
wonder  and  our  love. 

There  is,  in  the  death  of  Christ,  as  there  was  in  his  life, 
perfect  simplicity ;  no  scenical  effect,  no  expression  of  tumul- 


80  ON  GOOD  FRIDAY. 

tuous  feeling,  no  swelling  words  and  sentiments ;  no  desire 
to  excite  compassion  in  those  who  witnessed  his  sufferings. 
The  life  of  our  Saviour  is  great,  because  it  has  no  scenes  of 
vulgar  glory;  because  he  endured  much  for  an  high  object; 
and  loved  truth  and  virtue  so  well  that  when  their  interests 
were  concerned,  he  felt  no  pain  and  feared  no  evil ; — and  his 
death  is  great,  because  he  died  simply,  Hfted  up  by  a  great 
purpose  above  fortune  and  the  world.  The  death-bed  of 
men  who  have  acted  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  world,  is 
sometimes  a  scene  of  vanity,  rather  than  a  scene  of  piety ; 
they  have  lived,  not  for  God  and  for  duty,  but  for  opinion ; 
and  they  summon  up  the  remnants  of  strength  to  astonish  the 
beholders,  and  to  give  the  last  brilliant  colour  to  their  glory  ; 
but  Jesus  Christ  died  with  a  few  words,  and,  to  appearance, 
forgetful  of  himself;  remembering  only  what  he  had  done  for 
others  '.—for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  to  bear  wit- 
ness of  the  truth, 

'  The  conduct  of  our  Saviour  towards  Peter,  whose  apostasy 
he  had  foretold,  is  characteristic  of  majestic  simplicity, — when 
Peter  had  denied  him  thrice,  the  Lord  turned  and  looked 
upon  Peter,  and  Peter  went  out  and  wept  bitterly.  If  that 
look  taught  Peter  to  repent,  it  may  teach  us  to  believe :  the 
fraud  and  the  folly  which  we  witness,  have  no  such  singleness 
of  heart  and  such  plain  majesty  of  action ;  whenever  we  behold 
such  signs  as  these,  we  hail  them  as  the  shepherds  did  the 
star  in  the  East ;  they  are  the  marks  which  God  has  put  upon 
truth  and  good  faith  ;  premeditated  sophistry  may  destroy 
the  first  burst  of  nature,  but  in  reading  the  history  of  Christ's 
death,  the  fresh  and  sudden  feelings  of  the  heart,  all  acquit 
him,  all  praise  him,  all  believe  in  him ; — we  all  feel  as  Pon- 
tius Pilate,  his  judge,  felt,  who,  when  he  had  looked  at  him, 
and  heard  him  speak,  broke  from  the  judgment  seat,  and 
bathed  his  trembling  hands  in  the  water,  saying,  "  I  call  you 
all  to  witness,  I  ani  guiltless  of  the  blood  of  this  innocent 
man." 

In  the  trial  and  death  of  Christ  there  was  no  symptom  of 
fear;  he  encountered  all  his  miseries  with  decent,  yet  un- 
yielding courage  ;  nor  did  he  evince  the  smallest  disposition 
to  recede  from  those  high  pretensions  which  he  had  advanced, 
or  disown  that  awful  character  which  he  had  supported. 
When  the  multitude  came  out  to  seize  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  he 
said,  "I  am  he!"  When  the  high  priest  asked  him  of  his 
disciples  and  his  doctrines,  "Why  askest  thou  me?  (is  his 


ON  GOOD  FRIDAY.  81 

reply.)  I  spake  openly  to  the  world ;  I  have  ever  taught  in 
the  synagogue,  and  the  temple  where  the  Jews  resort,  and 
in  secret  have  I  said  nothing ;  why  askest  thou  me  ?  Ask 
them  which  heard  me  what  I  said  unto  them ;  behold  they 
know  what  I  said."  Then  comes  that  memorable  answer, 
which  was  the  immediate  cause  of  his  condemnation.  "I 
adjure  thee  (says  the  high  priest)  tell  me  if  thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  son  of  the  blessed  ?"  And  Jesus  answered,  "  thou 
hast  said  it.  I  am  the  Son  of  God ;  hereafter  thou  shalt  see 
me  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  in  the 
clouds  of  Heaven."  Thus  far,  then,  there  are  identity  and 
consistency  in  the  character  of  our  Saviour;  deserted  and 
disowned  by  his  followers ;  buffeted,  smitten,  and  mocked, 
by  an  angry  multitude ;  judged  by  enemies ;  at  the  eve  of 
death  he  said  all  that  he  had  said  before,  when  the  multitude 
strewed  branches  in  his  road,  and  cried,  "  Hosanna  to  the 
highest."  The  Gospel  has  all  that  corroboration  which  it  can 
possibly  receive  from  uniformity  of  character  in  its  founder, 
— a  character,  after  the  intense  hght  thrown  upon  it,  by  adver- 
sity and  prosperity  found  to  be  without  blemish  or  spot.  Such 
evidence,  though  not  of  itself  conclusive,  assists  the  stronger 
proofs  of  the  Gospel,  and  spreads  upon  its  minutest  parts  the 
genuine  colour  of  truth.  And  this  is  the  peculiar  import- 
ance of  that  species  of  death  which  our  Saviour  died,  that  it 
leaves  nothing  to  conjecture ;  that  it  develops  fully  his  sacred 
character;  and  displays  him  in  every  variety  of  difficult 
situation.  Without  the  test  of  a  persecuting  death,  something 
would  have  been  wanting  to  the  proof;  for  death  must 
surely  be  considered  as  the  strongest  of  all  proofs,  and  the 
most  certain  of  all  tests  ; — he  who  dies  for  calling  himself  the 
Son  of  God,  must,  at  least,  believe  himself  to  be  so ;  it  is 
impossible  to  add  anything  to  this  evidence  of  internal  con- 
viction; and,  had  it  been  wanting  to  the  history  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  whole  argument,  on  which  the  sacred  cause 
depends,  would  have  been  much  less  complete  than  it  now 
is;  but  that  which  St.  Paul  tells  us  was  to  the  Jews  folly, 
and  to  the  Greeks  a  stumbling  block,  is,  to  us,  the  strongest 
and  most  irresistible  lesson  of  the  true  glory  and  greatness  of 
the  founder  of  our  religion. 

We  must  observe,  in  speaking  of  our  Saviour's  firmness, 
that  it  was  the  firmness  of  reason,  not  of  passion ;  there  was 
nothing  in  it  which  could  in  the  remotest  degree  evince 
an  heated  and  disordered  imagination  ;  nothing  was  ever  so 


82  ON  GOOD  FRIDAY* 

far  removed  from  enthusiasm ;  he  was  mute  under  the  crown 
and  the  robe,  and  reviled  not  again  when  he  was  reviled  ;  he 
bore  every  species  of  indignity  with  calm  resignation,  and 
died  meekly  and  mutely  as  a  victim.  Those  upon  whom 
such  facts  make  no  impression,  must  believe,  that  an  human 
being  of  the  calmest  passions  and  the  simplest  mind,  im- 
agined himself  to  be  the  Son  of  God ;  that,  in  consequence  of 
this  madness,  he  preached  the  purest  virtue  and  the  soundest 
reason ;  that  he  lived  in  wretchedness  for  that  doctrine  and 
that  character  ;  then  died  for  them,  in  the  flower  of  his  age, 
not  only  without  the  smallest  symptom  of  fear,  or  of  enthu- 
siasm, but  with  the  cool  display  of  every  great  quality;  I  will 
not  say  such  a  fact  is  impossible,  but  I  may  say  it  is  contrary 
to  all  human  experience.  Imposture  and  enthusiasm  have 
never  come  down  in  such  a  shape  to  us ;  such  opinions  may 
suit  those  who  believe  greater  improbabilities  than  they  refute; 
but  no  sound  judge  of  the  human  mind  will  adopt  them,  and 
no  fair  reasoner  advance  them. 

Another  proof  of  the  excellence  of  our  Saviour's  death  and 
of  its  consistency  with  his  former  history,  is  the  tender  and 
forgiving  disposition  which  it  uniformly  evinces.  His  first 
prayer  to  Heaven  is,  that  his  murderers  may  be  forgiven : — 
"  Father,  forgive  them,  they  know  not  what  they  do."  While 
he  is  on  the  cross,  and  in  the  agonies  of  a  painful  death,  he 
sees  his  mother  and  his  favourite  disciple, — "  When  Jesus, 
therefore,  saw  his  mother,  and  the  disciple  whom  he  loved,  he 
said  unto  his  mother,  woman,  behold  thy  son  !  And  to  the 
disciple,  behold  thy  mother !  And  from  that  hour  the  disci- 
ple took  her  unto  his  own  home."  Thus  it  was  that  this 
great  character  preserved,  to  the  last,  that  mild  virtue  and 
those  goo^  feelings  which  his  precepts  taught,  and  all  his 
previous  actions  confirmed  ;  the  spirit  of  heavenly  charity 
triumphed  over  the  grave ;  the  disciple  whom  he  loved,  and 
the  mother  who  bare  him,  were  dear  to  him  even  upon  the 
cross ;  and,  while  they  are  weeping  at  his  feet,  his  last 
accents  lighten  their  misery,  and  bind  them  for  ever  in  that 
lasting  friendship  which  flows  from  a  common  grief.  Let  us 
remember,  in  thinking  of  his  dying  charity,  that  he  has  com- 
mended to  us  not  only  son,  and  mother,  and  father,  but  all  the 
children  of  the  Gospel  to  all  time ;  that  he  requires  of  us  to 
perform  acts  of  charity  and  kindness ;  to  offer  up  those  pas- 
sions which  are  destructive  of  human  happiness  ;  and  to 
learn  from  his  death  to  be  purer,  and  kinder,  and  better  men., 


ON  GOOD  FRIDAY.  63 

Having  thus  performed  the  last  offices  which  remained  to 
be  discharged,  the  world  and  its  cares  are  no  more  to  him ; 
his  earthly  career  is  finished  ;  he  bowed  his  head,  and,  crying 
with  a  loud  voice,  gave  up  the  ghost.  Thus  died  that  great 
being  whose  life  was  one  uniform  tenour  of  just  doctrines  and 
compassionate  actions ;  who  laboured  to  soften,  to  unite  and 
to  purify  mankind;  in  whose  existence  there  is  not  a  word,  nor 
a  deed,  which  had  not  our  happiness  for  its  object  and  its 
end.  Truly,  there  is  something  in  Christ's  history  which 
paints  him  to  our  eyes  as  the  most  venerable,  the  most  simple 
and  the  most  holy  of  beings.  The  keenest  malice,  and  the 
sharpest  inquisition,  cannot  fix  upon  him  the  shadow  of  error, 
or  of  crime ;  he  preached  doctrines  for  which  he  led  a  life  of 
persecution :  and  died  a  death  of  pain.  Did  he  not,  then, 
believe  in  these  doctrines  himself  ?  But  he  was  an  enthusiast  I 
Never,  then,  was  enthusiasm  so  mild,  so  gentle,  so  moderate, 
and  so  intelligible  ; — do  you  unto  others  as  you  would  they 
should  do  unto  you  ;  let  all  your  words  be  yea,  and  nay; — 
pray  to  God,  not  before  men,  but  in  secret;  give  alms  of  all 
thou  hast  to  the  poor ;  purify  the  inward  heart ;  and  expect 
reward  of  God,  as  you  are  good  to  your  fellow-creatures.  If 
this  is  enthusiasm,  what  then  is  simple,  what  clear,  what 
practical,  and  what  wise  ?  Unquestionably,  no  one  who  has 
ever  attempted  to  legislate  for  mankind  has  involved  his  doc- 
trine less  in  florid  description  and  ambiguous  subhmity;  has 
calculated  his  precepts  so  directly  for  practice,  or  addressed 
himself  so  uniformly  to  the  common  feelings  and  common 
sense  of  his  followers. — Nor  did  our  Saviour  seek,  by  the  arts 
of  insinuation,  to  lead  before  him  a  deluded  multitude ;  he 
ministered  to  no  man's  passion;  and  he  flattered  no  man's  pride; 
he  taught  not  like  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  but  as  one  hav- 
ing authority; — his  resistance  to  the  ruling  powers  was  as  far 
removed  from  intemperate  violence  as  his  demeanour  to  the 
people  was  from  seductive  artifice  : — to  be  brief,  there  is  not 
in  the  character  of  Christ  one  trait  of  mortality;  nothing 
which,  for  an  instant,  bespeaks  him  allied  to  the  infirmities  of 
man ;  no  change,  no  guile,  no  conflict  of  passion,  no  wavering 
of  heart,  no  pride  of  spirit ;  without  thought  for  himself,  with- 
out love  of  command,  a  man  of  sorrow,  rejected  and  despised; 
who  bore  in  his  bosom  the  rebukes  of  many  people  and  moved 
silently  on  in  the  paths  of  afliiction ;  healing  and  comforting 
mankind  ;  and  laying  the  foundations  of  that  blessed  religion 
the  voice  of  which  has  gone  out  into  all  lands  and  called  man 


)-■ 


84  ON  GOOD  FRIDAY. 

from  the  alternate  slumber  and  fury  of  his  savage  life  to  the 
sweets  and  glories  of  industry  and  peace. 

So  Hved  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God;  and  how  he  was  loved,  and 
honoured  in  his  death,  we  all  know :  Every  passer  by  smote 
his  breast ;  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  followed  him  weeping; 
Judas  flung  down  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver ;  Pilate  said,  I  am 
guiltless  of  his  blood ;  the  thief  saw  he  was  a  God ;  the  cen- 
turion believed  and  trembled ;  the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent; 
darkness  was  over  the  earth ;  the  graves  were  open  ;  and 
many  sleeping  bodies  of  the  saints  came  up  to  the  world : — 
these  are  the  miracles  which  carried  conviction  to  the  hearts 
of  his  persecutors  and  murderers :  if  we  can  study  in  vain  the 
morals  of  his  hfe,  we  must  yield,  at  least,  to  the  miracles  of 
his  death :  and  exclaim,  with  the  trembhng  centurion,  "  of  a 
truth  this  was  the  Son  of  God," 


'«r:^:.fkaK. 


SERMON    XII. 

ON   THE    JUDGMENTS   WE  FORM    OF 
OTHERS, 

In  righteousness  shall  thou  judge  thy  neighbour.— Leviticus  xix.  verse  15. 

Though  this  sentiment  has  been  repeatedly  confirmed  by 
our  Saviour  himself;  and  though  it  continually  pervades  the 
writings  of  Saint  Paul  and  the  apostles  ;  I  have  chosen  to 
quote  it  from  the  Jewish  Scriptures,  to  show,  that  it  was  an 
ancient  law  among  men,  arising  from  good  feeling,  sanctioned 
by  long  practice,  and,  therefore,  from  its  direct  bearing  upon 
human  happiness,  incorporated  into  Christian  morals. 

In  righteousness  shalt  thou  judge  thy  neighbour ;  the  first 
branch  of  which  righteous  judgment  is,  to  cultivate  a  pre- 
disposition to  mercy  ;  to  hear  bad  motives  imputed  to  others, 
with  an  earnest  desire  that  they  may  prove  to  be  exaggerated, 
or  untrue ;  and  to  discipline  the  mind  in  such  a  manner,  that 
its  habitual  feeling,  on  hearing  of  the  faults  of  others,  should 
be  that  of  unfeigned  sorrow.  Modern  manners  have  adopted 
a  certain  language  of  virtuous  sympathy,  which  passes,  not 
unfrequently,  with  ourselves  and  others,  for  the  excellence 
itself ; — if  all,  then,  who  wish  to  appear  good,  counterfeit  a 
compassion  for  the  faults  of  others,  all  who  wish  to  be  good, 
should  really  cherish  and  promote  the  feeling. — Manners  are 
the  shadows  of  virtues  ;  the  momentary  display  of  those  quali- 
ties which  our  fellow-creatures  love  and  respect. — If  we 
strive  to  become,  then,  what  we  strive  to  appear,  manners 
may  often  be  rendered  useful  guides  to  the  performance  of 
our  duties. 

The  habit  we  have  of  comparing  ourselves  with  others,  is 
that  principle  of  our  nature  which  prevents  us  from  feeling 
as  much  compassion  as  we  ought  for  the  infirmities  of  the 
8 


86  ON  THE  JUDGMENTS  WE  FORM  OF  OTHERS. 

rest  of  mankind  ;  we  cannot  hear  a  bad  action  imputed  to  any- 
one without  congratulating  ourselves  that  we  have  not  been 
guilty  of  it,  and  enjoying  a  momentary  superiority  that  our 
fortune  has  been  more  perfect,  our  wisdom  more  penetrating, 
and  our  virtue  more  firm: — this  is  not  what  Christianity 
teaches ;  it  teaches  us  to  listen,  with  trembling  humihty,  to 
every  example  of  error,  or  of  crime ;  to  reflect,  at  such  sea- 
sons, upon  the  frail  nature  of  man;  to  receive,  with  serious 
pity,  every  fresh  example  of  misguided  reason  and  triumph- 
ant passion  ;  to  remember,  that  to-morrow  may  bring  some 
difficulty  which  we  cannot  vanquish  ;  some  temptation  which 
we  cannot  resist  ;'^and  that  we  ourselves  may  then  be  suing 
for  that  indulgence  which  to-day  we  so  arrogantly  refuse  to 
others. 

To  judge  our  neighbour  in  righteousness,  it  is  our  duty  to 
consider  those  motives  which  may  corrupt  our  judgment : 
when  we  set  ourselves  to  reflect  how  far  we  have  cultivated 
this  species  of  justice,  Ave  deceive  ourselves,  by  quoting  the 
examples  of  those  who  have  become  dear  to  us  from  particu- 
lar circumstances  ;  by  citing  the  judgments  we  have  made  of 
friends,  of  kindred,  of  men,  who  have  embarked  with  us  in 
common  designs  ;  have  been  engaged  in  the  same  pursuit;  and 
been  actuated  by  the  same  principles :  doubtless  we  are  just 
enough  in  all  these  instances ;  here  we  feel  real  sorrow  at 
the  faults  of  others,  and  do  all,  and  even  more  than  the  most 
righteous  judges  ought  to  do:  but  if  we  really  and  faithfully 
wish  to  fulfil  this  great  duty,  we  are  to  examine  how  far  we 
have  righteously  judged  those  to  whom  we  have  never  been 
connected  in  friendship  ;  those  whom  chance  has  separated 
from  us  by  rank  and  wealth  ;  nature  by  talents  ;  education  by 
opinions;  those  who  have  been  opposed  to  us  in  questions  which 
try  the  passions :  those  from  whom  we  have  suffered  disre- 
spect, injury  and  contempt.  If,  in  the  awful  moments  of 
self-judgment,  we  can  satisfy  ourselves  that  we  never  wished 
that  calumny  to  be  true  which  accorded  with  our  warmest 
passions  ;  that  we  have  never  been  disappointed  by  that  in- 
nocence which  baffled  our  resentment,  that  the  infirmities  of 
our  nature  have  rarely  stifled  this  tenderness  for  the  good 
fame  of  others  ;  then,  and  not  till  then,  are  we  entitled  to  con- 
ceive that  we  have  obeyed  this  precept  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
judged  our  fellow-creatures  in  righteousness. 

It  is  from  inattention  to  the  motives  which  may  corrupt  our 
judgments,  that  the  art  of  differing  in  opinion  upon  important 


ON  THE  jrDGMENTS  WE  FORM  OF  OTHERS.  87 

subjects  is  so  little  understood,  or,  if  understood,  is  so  imperfectly- 
exercised  ; — a  part  of  conduct,  however,  in  which  all  the  best 
feelings  of  a  Christian  may  be  called  into  action,  and  upon  the 
proper  exercise  of  which  the  happiness  of  society  intimately  de- 
pends. To  look  upon  mankind,  collected  either  into  greater  or 
lesser  numbers,  as  members  either  of  kingdoms,  or  cities,  we 
are  delighted  with  that  social  combination,  that  unity  of  view 
and  interests,  which  appears  among  them ;  it  is  only  from  a 
more  intimate  view  of  their  condition  that  we  perceive  those 
interior  societies  separated  from  each  other  by  insuperable 
aversion,  and  waging  the  most  furious  and  implacable  war  of 
opinion ; — to  see  men  of  acknowledged  worth  and  talents 
totally  blind  to  each  other's  perfections,  furiously  ascribing  to 
each  other  the  most  improbable  depravity,  and  shunning  each 
other  Avith  the  most  marked  detestation,  is,  to  him  who  has 
kept  his  passions  cool  and  unbiased,  a  lesson  upon  the  in- 
firmities of  our  nature  not  easily  to  be  forgotten :  differ  we 
must,  and  upon  the  most  serious  topics  ;  but  the  law  of  Christ 
is  not  a  set  of  words  always  in  our  mouths,  but  a  rule  to  be 
never  absent  from  our  hearts.  What  is  the  meaning  of  being 
a  Christian,  if  it  is  not  to  carry  into  all  these  differences  a 
candid,  liberal  and  forgiving  spirit  ?  to  exhibit  towards  every 
opponent  the  purest  and  most  impartial  justice  ?  to  debar 
ourselves  of  the  unworthy  resource  of  imputing  bad  motives, 
but  upon  the  most  unq^uestionable  evidence  ?  to  exercise  our 
own  right  of  deciding,  without  denying  that  right  of  others  ? 
and,  while  we  obey  the  result  of  our  own  dehbe rations,  to  re- 
member it  is  not  impossible  that  we  may  have  mistaken,  ex- 
ceeded, or  distorted  the  truth  ? 

To  judge  our  neighbour  righteously,  we  should  remember 
that,  in  many  instances,  a  fault  once  committed  may  be  atoned 
for  ;  and,  that  an  imputation  once  true  is  not  always  true  :  we 
do  not  derive  that  useful  lesson  which  we  might  derive  from 
the  consciousness  of  our  own  infirmities.  If  there  are  very 
few,  even  of  the  best  and  most  approved  among  us,  who 
would  dare  to  lay  open  the  secret  history  of  thought,  word 
and  deed,  from  infancy  to  this  hour ;  if  many  are  conscious  of 
secret  sin,  many  of  those  numerous  perils  on  which  their 
virtue  has  been  nearly  wrecked ;  if  they  are  sensible,  as  they 
must  be,  how  often  they  have  been  indebted  to  accident, 
rather  than  wisdom  for  escape;  how  powerfully  do  all  these 
considerations  inculcate  upon  our  minds  precepts  of  tender- 
ness and  mercy  for  the  infirmities  of  our  nature  ?  not  that 


88  ON  THE  JUDGMENTS  WE  FORM  OF  OTHERS. 

crimes  should  be  sheltered  from  evil  report ;  but  that,  when 
they  are  not  of  too  deep  a  dye,  they  should  be  forgotten. 
The  faults  of  youth  ought  not  to  follow  the  same  being  through 
every  stage  of  his  existence  ; — there  is  no  cruelty  so  great  as 
to  keep  the  fallen  man  for  ever  in  the  dust ;  and  to  blast  his 
reviving  hopes  with  the  malicious  memory  of  past  miscon- 
duct ;  but  the  misfortune  is,  we  want  the  vices  of  others  to 
keep  up  our  own  halting  virtue  ;  and  we  cannot  afford  to  lose 
them ;  a  good  man  is  ever  looking  inward  to  the  bright  image 
he  has  formed  of  Christian  purity,  while  it  is  the  genuine  habit 
of  baseness  to  found  reputation  upon  the  imperfections  of 
others,  and  of  suspected  virtue,  ferociously  to  insult  its  own 
vices,  in  the  lives  and  conduct  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 

Whatever  be  our  opinion  of  the  guilt  of  others,  it  is  not 
always  necessary  to  propagate  and  diffuse  it ; — in  the  admin- 
istration of  public  justice,  punishment  is  separated  from  accu- 
sation :  but  at  the  tribunal  of  the  world  they  are  often  the 
same  things.  If  men  were  as  ready  to  investigate  calumny 
as  they  are  to  receive  it,  the  evils  of  its  diffusion  would  be 
much  less ;  but  the  disease  travels  faster  than  the  remedy 
can  follow ;  to  give  credit  to  defamation,  though  neither  the 
generous  nor  the  just  is  considered  as  the  safe  side,  and 
many  receive  the  accusation,  who  are  too  careless  to  listen  to 
the  defence,  or  too  timid  to  admit  it. 

To  promote  the  righteous  judgment  of  our  neighbour,  it  is 
our  duty  to  defend  him  where  we  can  do  so  with  any  colour 
of  justice; — this  we  are  frequently  prevented  from  doing, 
because  it  is  unpopular  ;  it  checks  a  source  of  amusement  from 
which  we  are  all  apt,  at  times,  to  derive  but  too  much  plea- 
sure ;  it  recalls  those  who  hear  us  from  a  state  of  mirth,  and 
compels  them  to  hsten  to  the  dry,  unamusing  suggestions  of 
justice.  But  this  temporary  displeasure  it  is  our  duty  to 
incur,  from  the  most  exalted  motives  of  Christian  duty: — to 
consider  the  real  degree  of  credibility  due  to  evil  report ;  the 
temptations  to  misrepresentation ;  and  the  chances  for  mis- 
take ; — to  take  the  fact  with  all  its  favourable  colours  and 
extenuating  circumstances;  to  wait  for  the  answer  of  the 
accused  party ;  to  insist  upon  all  the  good  which  we  have 
previously  known  of  him ;  all  this  is  in  the  power  of  the  most 
inconsiderable  being  among  us ;  and  if  there  can  be  a  proof 
of  a  truly  good,  a  truly  noble,  and  a  truly  Christian  disposi- 
tion, this  it  is.  While  others  listen  eagerly  to  the  narrrative 
of  folly  and  of  crime,  and  every  one  secretly  exults  and  says, 


ON  THE  JUDGMENTS  WE  FORM  OF  OTHERS.  89" 

thank  God,  I  am  not  as  this  man  is  ; — forget  not  thou  thy 
absent  brother,  and,  in  the  midst  of  his  enemies,  let  thy  voice 
be  heard  for  the  defenceless  man  ; — look  not  for  short-lived 
favour,  and  the  praise  of  a  moment,  by  tramphng  on  him 
who  is  already  fallen ;  but  cherish  a  fixed  concern  for  human 
happiness :  let  your  words  and  actions  show  that  in  your 
eyes  the  absent  are  sacred  ;  and  check,  with  serious  benevo- 
lence, that  mirth  which  is  cruel  and  unjust. — This  it  is  to 
look  down  upon  the  world  from  an  eminence,  to  live  upon 
the  grand,  to  act  upon  a  noble  and  commanding  scale,  and 
to  lay  deep  the  foundations  of  inward  approbation  and  public 
regard. 

There  are  many,  I  believe,  who  are  so  far  from  listening 
to  the  means  by  which  this  satisfaction  at  the  misconduct  of 
others  may  be  checked,  that  they  are  rather  inclined  to  doubt 
of  the  disorder  than  to  adopt  the  remedy.  It  wounds  our 
pride  as  much  to  confess  the  fault,  as  it  gratifies  our  pride  to 
practise  it.  No  man  chooses  to  avow  that  he  wants  the  faults 
of  others  as  a  foil  to  his  own  character ;  no  man  has  the 
desperate  candour  to  confess,  that  the  comparison  which  he 
draws  between  himself  and  his  brother  upon  hearing  of  any 
act  of  misconduct,  is  a  source  of  pleasure ;  and  that,  in  such 
cases,  the  feelings  of  self  overcome  the  rules  of  the  Gospel ; 
if  you  ask  any  man  such  a  question,  he  will  say,  that  he 
depends  upon  his  own  efforts,  and  not  on  the  failure  of 
others ;  he  will  contend  that  the  errors  of  his  fellow-crea- 
tures are  to  him  a  source  of  serious  concern  ;  he  says  so— 
and  he  believes  that  he  says  the  truth  ;  for  no  man  knows 
the  secrets  of  his  own  heart ;  but  if  it  is  true,  why  are  the 
wings  of  evil  fame  so  swift  and  so  unwearied  ?  Why  is  it 
not  as  difficult  to  lose,  as  to  gain,  the  commendations  of  man- 
kind ?  Why  does  it  require  a  whole  life  to  gain  a  character 
which  can  be  lost,  and  unjustly  lost,  in  a  single  moment  of 
time  ?  It  is  because  we  are  reluctant  to  exalt,  and  ever  will- 
ing to  pull  down ;  because  we  love  the  fault  better  which 
gives  us  an  inferior,  than  the  virtue  which  elevates  an  human 
being  above  us. 

I  say  these  things  not  to  offend,  but  to  promote  Christian 
charity  ;  not  to  lower  our  ideas  of  human  nature,  but  to  recall 
it  to  the  purity  and  perfection  of  the  Gospel ;  and  by  these 
means  to  adorn  it,  and  to  lift  it  up.  The  true  way  to  rid  our- 
selves of  these  unworthy  feelings,  is  to  cultivate  a  general 
love  of  happiness  and  of  excellence  ;  to  rejoice  with  the  joy 


tk^  ON  THE  JUDGMENTS  WE  FORM  OF  OTHERS. 

of  Others ;  to  be  glad  that  the  heart  of  any  human  being  is 
made  glad ;  to  be  proud  of  every  virtue  built  up  with  time 
and  toil  and  sound  instruction ;  to  mourn  when  man  forgets 
his  God  ;  and  to  feel  that  it  is  the  common  interest  of  our 
nature  to  withstand  the  violence  of  passion ;  and  to  extend 
the  dominion  of  true  religion. 

I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  show  in  what  righteous  judg- 
ment of  our  neighbour  consists ;  I  have  stated  it  to  be  our 
duty  to  receive,  with  reluctance,  the  imputation  of  evil,  to 
guard  against  every  impulse  of  prejudice  or  passion,  which 
may  bias  our  judgment ;  to  defend  our  fellow-creatures, 
where  we  can  do  so  with  justice ;  and  never  to  believe  in 
evil  report  but  upon  the  most  satisfactory  evidence :  I  have 
stated,  that  it  is  also  our  duty  to  suppose,  that,  in  time,  bad 
qualities  may  be  corrected,  and  serious  faults  atoned  for ;  to 
receive,  with  pleasure,  every  symptom  of  amendment;  and 
lastly,  whatever  be  the  proof  of  guilt,  to  be  slow  and  cau- 
tious in  bringing  it  forward  to  the  knowledge  of  mankind. 

Such  is  the  manner  in  which  I  have  attempted  to  explain 
this  Christian  duty  of  judging  our  neighbour  in  righteous- 
ness ; — allow  me  to  conclude,  by  pressing  earnestly  upon 
your  attention  this  ancient  and  sublime  law,  which  bears  so 
directly  upon  human  happiness,  and  is  so  frequently  and 
powerfully  sanctioned  by  the  Gospel.  To  depreciate  our 
fellow-creatures  may  gratify  pride  by  the  comparative  eleva- 
tion of  ourselves ;  or  minister  to  vanity  by  the  display  of 
lively  talents  ;  but  the  pleasure  is  soon  gone,  and  the  bitter- 
ness remains ; — we  feel  that  the  purity  of  our  own  conduct 
gives  us  no  title  to  censure  that  of  others ;  we  are  conscious 
of  deserving  the  enmity  of  those  who  have  been  the  objects 
of  our  malice ;  and  we  know  that  it  is  not  approved  even  by 
those  who  appear  to  derive  from  it  the  greatest  amusement ; 
but  to  conquer  the  love  of  transient  applause,  to  condemn 
reluctantly,  and  for  the  public  good ;  to  defend  and  protect 
with  pleasure ;  and  though  passion,  pride  and  impunity 
tempt,  to  preserve  a  scrupulous  and  awful  justice  in  our 
judgment  of  others,  is  to  secure  the  purest  and  most  perfect 
of  all  pleasures, — self-approbation  and  respect.  If  you  can 
raise  your  mind  to  this  elevation  of  virtue,  mankind  will 
love  and  adore  you ;  every  human  being  will  feel  his  honour 
and  his  good  fame  safe  in  your  hands ; — and  that  Saviour 
will  heap  blessings  on  your  head,  who  has  bid  you  judge  in 
mercy,  and  love  your  neighbour  as  yourself. 


-'^imfB^-^^m  -^^ 


SERMON   XIII. 

ON    THE    LOVE    OF    OUR    COUNTRY 


By  the  waters  of  Babylon,  we  sat  down  and  wept,  when  we  remembered 
thee,  Oh  Sion  ! — Psalm  cxxxvii.  verse  1. 

This  beautiful  Psalm  was  written  in  commemoration  of 
the  Babylonish  captivity,  written,  if  we  may  judge,  from  the 
lively  feelings  it  exhibits,  soon  after  the  period  of  that  memo- 
rable event ;  and,  in  truth,  it  is  not  possible  to  read  it  without 
emotion.  It  tells  a  tale  of  sorrow  with  that  simple  melancholy 
which  the  heart  can  only  feel,  and  the  imagination  never 
counterfeit.  They  hung  up  their  harps  on  the  willow  trees, 
they  could  not  sing  the  songs  of  their  God,  for  they  were  in 
captivity,  and  heaviness  of  spirit  oppressed  them;  they  thought 
of  their  country,  and  sat  down  by  the  waters  of  Babylon  to 
weep. 

Whence,  it  may  be  asked,  does  this  love  of  our  country, 
this  universal  passion,  proceed  ?  Why  does  the  eye  ever 
dwell  with  fondness  upon  the  scenes  of  infant  life  ?  Why  do 
we  breathe  with  greater  joy  the  breath  of  our  youth  ?  Why 
are  not  other  soils  as  grateful,  and  other  heavens  as  gay  ? 
Why  does  the  soul  of  man  ever  cling  to  that  earth  where  it 
first  knew  pleasure  and  pain,  and,  under  the  rough  discipline 
of  the  passions,  was  roused  to  the  dignity  of  moral  life  ?  Is  it 
only  that  our  country  contains  our  kindred  and  our  friends  ? 
And  is  it  nothing  but  a  name  for  our  social  affections  ?  It 
cannot  be  this  ;  the  most  friendless  of  human  beings  has  a 
country  which  he  admires  and  extols,  and  which  he  would, 
in  the  same  circumstances,  prefer  to  all  others  under  heaven. 
Tempt  him  with  the  fairest  face  of  nature,  place  him  by 
living  waters,  under  shadowy  cedars  of  Lebanon  ;  open  to  his 
view  all  the  gorgeous  allurements  of  the  climates  of  the  sun  ; 


92  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY. 

he  will  love  the  rocks  and  deserts  of  his  childhood  better  than 
all  these,  and  thou  canst  not  bribe  his  soul  to  forget  the  land 
of  his  nativity ;  he  will  sit  down  and  weep  by  the  waters  of 
Babylon,  when  he  remembers  thee.  Oh  Sion. 

But  whether  from  this  love  of  our  kindred,  or  from  habit, 
or  from  association,  or  from  whatever  more  simple  principle 
of  our  nature  this  love  of  our  country  proceeds,  it  is  of  the 
highest  importance  to  society  that  its  existence  should  be 
cherished,  and  its  energy  directed  aright ;  if  the  duties  which 
regulate  the  conduct  of  man  to  man  be  lit  subjects  for  dis- 
cussion in  this  place,  that  virtue  which  is  founded  upon  the 
relation  between  societies  and  individuals,  and  includes  the 
important  and  extended  interests  of  a  whole  people,  must,  in 
preference  to  all  others,  merit  discussion  on  my  part,  and 
attention  on  yours. 

An  attempt  is  often  made  to  distinguish  between  moral  and 
Christian  subjects  of  investigation ;  but  no  subject  can  be 
moral  which  is  not  Christian.  Christianity  guides  us  to  ano- 
ther world,  by  showing  us  how  to  act  in  this ;  in  precepts 
more,  or  less  general,  it  enacts  and  limits  every  human  duty; 
the  world  is  the  theatre  where  we  are  to  show  whether  we 
are  Christians  in  profession,  or  in  deed;  and  there  is  no  action 
of  our  lives  which  concerns  the  interests  of  others,  in  which 
we  do  not  either  violate  or  obey  a  Christian  law ;  I  cannot, 
therefore,  illustrate  a  moral  duty,  without,  at  the  same  time, 
enforcing  a  precept  of  our  reHgion. 

The  love  of  our  country  has,  in  the  late  scenes  acted  in  the 
world,  been  so  often  made  a  pretext  for  bad  ambition,  and  so 
often  given  birth  to  crude  and  ignorant  violence,  that  many 
good  men  entertain  no  very  great  relish  for  the  virtue,  and 
some  are,  in  truth,  tired  and  disgusted  with  the  very  name 
of  it ;  but  this  mode  of  thinking,  though  very  natural  and 
very  common,  is,  above  all  others,  that  which  goes  to  perpe- 
tuate error  in  the  world ;  if  good  men  are  to  cherish  in  secret 
the  idea,  that  any  theory  of  duties  to  our  country  is  romantic 
and  absurd,  because  bad  men  and  foolish  men  have  made  it 
an  engine  of  crime,  or  found  it  a  source  of  error  ;  if  there  is 
to  be  this  constant  action  and  reaction  between  extreme 
opinions  ;  the  sentiments  of  mankind  in  eternal  vibration  be- 
tween one  error  and  another,  can  never  rest  upon  the  middle 
point  of  truth.  Let  it  be  our  pride  to  derive  our  principles, 
not  from  times  and  circumstances,  but  from  reason  and 
religion,  and  to  struggle  against  that  mixture  of  indolence 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY.  9& 

and  virtue  which  condemns  the  use,  because  it  will  not  dis- 
criminate the  abuse,  which  it  abhors.  In  spite  of  the  pros- 
titution of  this  venerable  name,  there  is,  and  there  ever  will 
be,  a  Christian  patriotism,  a  great  system  of  duties  which 
man  owes  to  the  sum  of  human  beings  with  whom  he  lives  : 
to  deny  it  is  folly ;  to  neglect  it  is  crime. 

The  love  of  our  country  has  been  ridiculed  by  some  modern 
enthusiasts,  as  too  narrow  a  field  for  the  benevolence  of  an 
enlightened  mind ;  they  are  for  comprehending  the  whole 
human  race  in  our  affections,  and  deem  any  partiality  shown 
to  the  particular  country  in  which  we  happen  to  be  born,  as 
a  narrow  and  unphilosophical  preference.  Now  it  would 
be  difficult  to  say,  whether  complete  selfishness,  or  universal 
philanthropy,  is  the  most  likely  to  mislead  us  from  that  sound 
practical  goodness,  in  which  the  beauty  of  Christianity  and 
the  merit  of  a  Christian  consist.  Our  sphere  of  thoughts 
has  hardly  any  limits,  our  sphere  of  action  hardly  any  extent; 
we  may  speculate  on  worlds,  we  must  act  in  families,  in 
districts,  and  in  kingdoms  ;  and  if  we  contract  a  distaste  for 
the  good  we  can  do,  because  it  is  not  equal  to  the  good  we 
can  conceive,  we  only  sacrifice  deeds  to  words,  and  rule  our 
hves  by  maxims  of  the  most  idle  and  ostentatious  sentiment. 

One  of  the  first  passions  by  which  the  imagination  of  an 
able  and  a  good  youth  is  inflamed,  is  the  love  of  his  country; 
but  he  often  manages  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  convert  it 
into  a  venial  error  rather  than  a  virtue  ;  I  say  venial,  because 
those  errors  which  proceed  from  the  good  and  generous  dis- 
positions of  youth,  deserve  indulgence,  and  are  seldom  perpe- 
tuated but  when  they  are  treated  with  harshness.  All  the 
splendid  actions  performed  in  popular  governments,  give  a 
very  early  bias  to  the  mind ;  the  perusal  of  them  forms  the 
most  material  part  of  education  ;  there  is  nothing  which 
ranges  youthful  fancy  on  the  side  of  government,  and  every- 
thing which  ranges  it  against  it ;  there  is  very  little  to  feed 
the  imagination  in  the  idea  that  men  must  be  restrained,  and 
protected  (above  all  things)  from  their  own  madness  and 
folly ;  that  they  must  often  be  deluded  and  threatened  into 
their  own  good ;  but  a  very  little  warmth  and  elevation  of 
thought  will  convert  all  the  necessary  operations  of  the 
best  governments  into  crimes  ; — contribution  is  extortion, 
punishment  is  cruelty,  management  and  prudence  are  du- 
plicity, and  restraint  slavish  subjugation ;  and  hence,  in  the 
young,  patriotism  is  often  little  else  than  an  universal  sus- 


m 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY. 


picion  and  abuse  of  all  government  Avhatsoever.  Many- 
have  the  good  fortune  to  outgrow  this  childish  propensity ; 
in  others  it  is  fixed  for  life,  and  exhibits  instances  of  mis- 
taken, declamatory  men,  and  of  the  most  deplorable  waste  of 
talents. 

Another  cause  which  renders  the  love  of  their  country  less 
useful  in  the  young,  is  vanity. 

A  young  man  in  some  of  the  higher  professions,  becomes 
fluent  in  technical  phrases,  and  skilful  in  technical  business  ; 
he  acquires  some  degree  of  consideration  in  the  little  circle  in 
which  he  lives,  and  tastes,  for  the  first  time,  the  sweets  of 
distinction  and  praise :  instantly  he  becomes  to  himself  a 
creature  of  unlimited  importance,  a  concealed  treasure ;  and 
careless  of  that  partial  pre-eminence,  which  he  considers  so 
much  less  than  his  real  right,  he  paints  to  himself  listening 
senates,  and  applauding  people ;  and  is  an  orator,  a  dema- 
gogue, and  a  statesman. 

in  the  first  half  of  life,  vanity  in  all  its  various  shapes  is 
unquestionably  the  great  moving  passion ;  and  it  is,  perhaps, 
in  the  first  half  of  life  that  these  ideas  more  peculiarly  pre- 
vail. As  a  man  multiplies  his  relations,  and  takes  a  firmer 
root  in  society,  as  he  assumes  the  new  characters  of  father 
and  hiisband,  and  as  the  real  business  of  the  world  crowds 
upon  him,  he  becomes  more  practical;  the  follies,  like  the 
beauties  of  his  youth,  fade  away,  and  the  soul's  dark  mansion 
lets  in  new  light  through  the  openings  which  time  has  made. 

It  would  seem,  also,  that  the  science  of  government  is  an 
unappropriated  region  in  the  universe  of  knowledge.  Those 
sciences  with  which  the  passions  can  never  interfere,  are  con- 
sidered to  be  attainable  only  by  study  and  by  reflection  ;  while 
there  are  not  many  young  men  who  doubt  of  their  ability  to 
make  a  constitution,  or  to  govern  a  kingdom.  At  the  same 
time,  there  cannot,  perhaps,  be  a  more  decided  proof  of  a 
superficial  understanding,  than  the  depreciation  of  those  dif- 
ficulties which  are  inseparable  from  the  science  of  govern- 
ment. To  know  well  the  local  and  the  natural  man ;  to  track 
the  silent  march  of  human  affairs ;  to  seize  with  happy  intui- 
tion on  those  great  laws  which  regulate  the  prosperity  of 
empires ;  to  reconcile  principles  to  circumstances,  and  be  no 
wiser  than  the  times  will  permit;  to  anticipate  the  effects  of 
every  speculation  upon  the  entangled  relations  and  awkward 
complexity  of  real  life  ;  and  to  follow  out  the  theorems  of  the 
senate  to  the  daily  comforts  of  the  cottage ;  is  a  task  which 

.."'^  -  '        '     ■ 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY.  95 

they  will  fear  most  who  know  it  best ;  a  task  in  which  the 
great  and  the  good  have  often  failed,  and  which  it  is  not  only- 
wise,  but  pious,  and  just  in  common  men  to  avoid. 

There  is  a  mahgnity  of  disposition  which  is  unfavourable 
to  the  interests  of  the  country  in  which  we  Hve,  a  weariness 
of  the  general  content,  a  disgust  at  the  diffusion  of  happiness, 
and  a  desire  to  forget  internal  vexation  by  the  sight  of  a  con- 
tagious and  epidemic  misery.  In  a  different  temperament, 
this  predisposing  cause  is  a  love  of  turbulence,  an  impatience 
of  everything  tranquil,  and  a  horror  of  stagnant  serenity  and  " 
insipid  content.  Above  all,  there  is  that  horrid  passion  of 
convulsing,  and  reversing  which  would  place  the  heel  of  the 
rustic  upon  the  neck  of  the  noble, — would  worship  the  pan- 
dects and  decretals  of  peasants, — and  thrust  the  sacred  gold 
of  the  sceptre  into  hands  that  had  ever  clenched  the  scythe 
and  the  spade. 

There  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  vast  communities,  a  nume- 
rous sect  of  men,  of  open  or  disguised  poverty,  who  have 
lost  fortune  and  fame,  in  the  sink  of  pleasure,  and  quenched 
every  particle  of  God  in  voluptuous  enormities,  and  crimes ; 
base,  bad  men,  who  prey  upon  industry  and  hate  virtue;  who 
would  tear  down  the  decencies,  and  pollute  the  innocence  of  / 
life,  that  they  might  make  mankind  as  wretched  as  themselves, 
and  spread  the  horror  of  ungoverned  passions  and  unquali- 
fied indulgence.  Here  is  the  first  nucleus  of  all  revolutions  ; 
it  matters  not  whether  the  object  be  to  enslave  the  people,  or  , 
to  free  them ;  to  give  them  up  to  another's  tyranny,  or  to  the 
more  cruel  dominion  of  their  own  folly ;  to  establish  a  despo- 
tism or  a  democracy.  In  all  revolutions  there  is  plunder, 
and  change  ;  and  here  are  the  hordes  of  assassins  and  rob- 
bers, the  tools  of  political  violence,  tutored  by  their  ancient 
pleasures  and  their  present  distress,  to  callous  inhumanity 
and  boundless  rapine.  This  source  of  danger  to  our  country 
needs  but  very  little  comment ;  the  cure  of  such  an  evil  falls 
under  that  general  law  of  self-defence  by  which  we  crush  a 
venomous  reptile,  or  slaughter  a  beast  of  prey.  No  other  ar- 
gument can  here  be  of  the  smallest  importance  but  the  argu- 
ment of  brute  force  and  determined  opposition. 

Many  people  who  are  conscious,  and  justly  conscious  of 
merit,  are  less  disposed  to  the  love  of  their  country  from  find- 
ing themselves  neglected  by  their  superiors  in  rank  and  re- 
putation ;  every  man  is  desirous  of  rising  in  life,  and  ambi- 
tious of  connecting  himself  in  the  most  eHgible  manner.    The 


96  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY. 

world  unfortunately  measures  by  one  scale,  and  the  individual 
by  another ;  and  disappointment  is  always  attributed  to  the 
injustice  of  those  who  confer  reputation,  rather  than  the  over- 
rated pretensions  of  him  who  seeks  it. 

It  is  natural  to  every  man  to  wish  for  distinction ;  and  the 
praise  of  those  who  can  confer  honour  by  their  praise,  in  spite 
of  all  false  philosophy,  is  sweet  to  every  human  heart.  But 
as  eminence  can  but  be  the  lot  of  a  few,  patience  of  obscurity 
is  a  duty  which  we  owe  not  more  to  our  own  happiness  than 
to  the  quiet  of  the  world  at  large.  Give  a  loose,  if  you  are 
young  and  ambitious,  to  that  spirit  which  throbs  within  you; 
measure  yourself  with  your  equals  ;  and  learn,  from  frequent 
competition,  the  place  which  nature  has  allotted  to  you ;  make 
of  it  no  mean  battle,  but  strive  hard ;  strengthen  your  soul  to 
the  search  of  truth,  and  follow  that  spectre  of  excellence  which 
beckons  you  on  beyond  the  walls  of  the  world  to  something 
better  than  man  has  yet  done.  It  may  be,  you  shall  burst  out 
into  light  and  glory  at  the  last :  but  if  frequent  failure  con- 
vince you  of  that  mediocrity  of  nature  which  is  incompatible 
with  great  actions,  submit  wisely  and  cheerfully  to  your  lot. 
Let  no  spirit  of  revenge  tempt  you  to  throw  off  your  loyalty 
to  your  country ;  and  to  prefer  a  vicious  celebrity  to  obscurity 
crowned  with  piety  and  virtue.  If  you  can  throw  new  light 
upon  moral  truth,  or  by  any  exertions  multiply  the  comforts, 
or  confirm  the  happiness  of  mankind,  this  fame  guides  you  to 
the  true  ends  of  your  nature.  Buty  in  the  name  of  God,  as 
you  tremble  at  retributive  justice,  and  in  the  name  of  man- 
kind, if  mankind  be  dear  to  you,  seek  not  that  easy  and  ac- 
cursed fame  which  is  gathered  in  the  work  of  revolutions, 
and  deem  it  better  to  be  for  ever  unknown,  than  to  found  a 
momentary  name  upon  the  basis  of  anarchy  and  irreligion. 

There  is  a  wearisome  and  sickly  affectation  of  feeling  unfa- 
vourable to  the  love  of  our  country ;  there  are  men,  by  whom 
the  people  are  spoken  of  in  terms  of  the  warmest  compassion, 
to  whom  government  conveys  no  other  notion  than  that  of  a 
vast  conspiracy  against  human  happiness,  and  in  whose  minds 
the  different  orders  of  society  are  considered  to  be  in  a  state 
of  essential  hostility  against  each  other.  A  poor  man  is  ne- 
cessarily an  oppressed  man,  and  a  rich  man  necessarily  a 
tyrant ;  and  the  day  of  poHtical  salvation  is  looked  for,  when 
the  valleys  are  to  be  exalted,  and  the  hills  laid  low,  crooked 
rendered  straight,  and  the  rough  places  plain. 

If  such  be  commonly  the  errors  of  the  young,  the  faults  of 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY.  97 

those  more  conversant  v^rith  the  world  are,  I  am  afraid,  of  a 
less  favourable  complexion.  Whatever  virtues  may  increase 
with  age,  the  virtue  of  patriotism  is  not  amongst  the  number. 
It  is  in  truth  a  matter  of  some  wonder  that  so  many  men  of 
irreproachable  honesty  in  private  life,  should  be  so  totally  de- 
void of  pubhc  virtue  ;  not  only  devoid  of  it  in  practice,  but  in 
theory.  Every  sneer  against  the  duties  we  owe  to  the  pub- 
lic is  received  with  complacency,  and  considered  as  proceed- 
ing from  a  thorough  knowledge  of  life  and  mankind ;  and  to 
talk  seriously  of  the  love  of  our  country,  is  political  artifice, 
or  youthful  declamation.  Nor  are  these  public  sins  at  all  in- 
famous in  the  eyes  of  the  world ;  men  of  undoubted  guilt 
move  in  the  same  circles  they  moved  before,  and  with  in- 
creased consideration,  if  their  crimes  be  upon  a  large  scale, 
and  they  have  bartered  morality  for  a  dignified  price.  De- 
cided and  immediate  infamy  follows  treason  to  individual 
trust.  When  one  man  suffers  from  fraud  and  injustice, 
every  honest  heart  is  up  in  arms.  Is  dishonesty  less  dis- 
honesty because  the  number  of  the  sufferers  is  increased,  and 
the  evil  subdivided  amongst  a  whole^ 'country  ?  The  limits 
of  private  fraud  are  narrow,  and  its  effect  of  no  long  duration. 
PubHc  dishonesty  may  entail  misery  upon  a  whole  people, 
and  the  unborn  infant  may  suffer  for  the  laxity  and  corrup- 
tion of  preceding  times.  Has  our  Saviour  given  us  such 
strict  rules  for  our  conduct  to  each  other,  and  left  us  to  the 
free  exercise  of  every  bad  and  licentious  passion  when  we 
sin  only  against  the  public  ?  Is  it  against  narrow  and  partial 
crimes  that  he  has  threatened  the  wrath  of  God,  and  has  he 
flung  open  the  doors  of  Heaven  to  magnificent  villany  and 
boundless  pollution  ?  He  who  sins  against  the  pubhc  has  no 
true  religion  of  Grod ;  he  has  no  honour,  which  is  the  religion 
of  the  world:  he  abstains  from  crimes  against  individuals, 
because  he  knows  that  loss  of  reputation  is  loss  of  interest, 
and  gives  loose  to  his  baseness,  when  profit  invites  and  im- 
punity permits ;  if  he  lived  in  worse  times,  when  the  stand- 
ard of  morals  was  still  lower,  he  would  defraud  his  neighbour, 
he  would  forfeit  his  word;  his  pretended  virtues  are  maxims 
of  convenience ;  he  has  no  guardian  conscience,  no  protecting 
principle;  there  waves  not  in  his  breast  that  flaming  sword 
which  turns  every  way  to  drive  off  that  which  is  evil,  and  to 
guard  the  tree  of  life ;  he  does  not  feel  that  he  is  as  accounta- 
ble to  God  in  every  public  as  in  every  private  transaction  of 
his  life  ;  that  he  is  bound  to  perform  those  duties  which  may 
9 


98  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY. 

affect  the  country  at  large,  with  the  same  delicate  and  inflexi- 
ble justice  which  he  would  exhibit  on  ordinary  occasions, 
and  not  to  be  base,  because  he  can  be  base  with  impunity ; 
that  he  ought  to  probe  to  the  quick  every,  the  least  motive  to 
public  fraud  and  to  public  corruption,  even  though  the  wrong 
should  be  divided,  and  subdivided  amongst  millions  and  mil- 
lions of  people;  he  remembers  not  that  they  only  can  enter 
into  the  holy  tabernacle  of  God  who  have  clemi  hands  and  a 
pure  heart. 

There  is  a  crime  committed  against  the  country,  in  times 
of  its  adversity,  which  is  certainly  of  the  most  sordid  and 
selfish  nature  ;  that  men  who  derive  not  only  protection,  but 
opulence,  from  a  country  in  the  days  of  its  prosperity,  should 
upon  any  appearance  of  alarm,  be  ever  ready  to  retire  with 
person  and  property  to  other  countries,  is  a  principle  sub- 
versive of  all  political  union  whatsoever.  What  nation  could 
exist  for  a  moment,  if,  in  the  day  of  danger  and  war,  when 
the  kingdoms  were  gathered  together  against  her,  she  saw 
her  treasures  dispersed,  and  her  children  fled  ?  Are  we  not 
all  hnked  together  by  language,  by  birth,  by  habits,  by  opinions, 
by  virtues,  for  worse,  for  better,  for  glory,  for  shame,  for  peace, 
for  war,  for  plenty,  for  want  ?  Will  you  shudder  to  interweave 
your  destiny  with  the  destiny  of  your  country  ?  Can  you 
possibly  think  of  your  own  security  when  your  land  is  weary 
and  fainting  because  of  her  great  afflictions  ?  And  when  all 
whom  you  know  and  love  can  die  and  suffer,  would  you  alone 
live  and  rejoice?  If  I  forget  thee.  Oh  Jerusalem!  let  my 
right  hand  forget  her  cunning :  If  I  do  not  remember  thee  in 
the  time  of  my  trouble,  let  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth. 

It  is  sometimes  good  to  be  content  with  doing  httle  ;  the 
great  and  splendid  occasions  in  which  a  man  can  benefit  his 
country  are  few ;  the  humble  duties  by  which  her  benefit 
may  be  advanced  are  of  daily  occurrence ;  such,  among 
others,  is  the  duty  of  example :  it  is  not  enough  to  ascer- 
tain that  actions  be  innocent  as  to  ourselves  ;  they  must 
be  innocent  as  to  the  effect  they  produce  upon  others ;  the 
consequences  of  some  levity  or  omission  to  you  may  be  un- 
important ;  but  they  are  not  unimportant  to  those  who  are 
guilty  of  the  same  thing  because  you  are,  and  will  be  guilty 
of  it  with  far  other  talents,  other  habits,  and  other  dispositions 
than  yourself.  This  kind  of  patriotism  is,  I  am  afraid,  rare 
enough  ;  indeed,  men  great  in  talents  and  rank  found  some- 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY.  9SJ 

what  of  their  reputation  upon  not  doing  what  the  rest  of  the 
world  do,  by  which  the  one  would  have  their  superior  talents 
inferred,  and  the  other  their  superior  condition.  Such,  I  am 
afraid,  is  the  unworthy  shame  of  being  thought  capable  of 
attending  to  minutiae,  which  robs  us  of  the  invaluable  benefit 
of  example. 

I  cannot  conclude  this  subject  of  love  to  our  country,  with- 
out animadverting  to  that  species  of  it  which  consists  in  a 
firm  and  spirited  combination  against  the  unjust  aggression 
and  dangerous  insolence  of  a  foreign  power  ;  and  in  all  the 
history  of  successful  resistance  to  outrageous  tyranny,  (a 
short  and  beautiful  page  in  the  annals  of  man,)  there  is  no  \ 
instance  more  marked  and  more  illustrious  than  that  which 
this  empire  has  so  recently  displayed  to  the  world.* 

The  whole  force  of  the  most  powerful  people  in  Europe 
was  guided  to  our  destruction  by  exquisite  talents,  unshackled 
from  the  fear  of  God  or  man.  Their  warhke  spirit  was  blown 
into  an  enthusiasm  which  Mahomet  could  never  kindle  in 
his  savage  Arabians,  when  he  came  forth,  Hke  these  modern 
fanatics,  to  blot  out  the  name  of  Christ,  and  to  dim  the  glory 
of  Christendom  ;  onwards  they  went,  deceiving  the  simple,  and 
conquering  the  brave  ;  bringing  to  their  foes  death,  to  their 
friends  freedom  worse  than  death  ;  but  plundering,  insulting, 
and  confounding  all.  Men's  hearts  were  melted  in  the  midst 
of  them  ;  there  was  neither  council  nor  conduct  in  Europe  ; 
a  deep-seated  earthquake  seemed  to  heave  up  the  basis  of 
civil  life,  and  the  tribunals  of  men,  and  the  thrones  of  mo- 
narchs,  and  the  temples  of  God,  were  shaken  to  the  lowest 
atom  of  their  structure.  What  was  the  firm,  dignified,  and 
manly  conduct  of  this  country  ?  We  stood  up  for  human 
happiness,  and  spurning  from  us  the  luxuries  of  peace,  un-  , 
furled  a  banner  to  the  nations,  under  which  the  good,  and  ' 
the  honourable,  and  the  wise  might  range  ;  and  with  as  much 
moderation  as  security  would  permit,  and  with  as  much 
courage  as  man  could  display,  through  internal  disaffection, 
and  through  mutiny,  and  through  open  rebeUion,  and  through 
two  awful  visitations  of  famine  for  many  long  years,  we  have  -^ 
maintained  this  great  fight.  What  evils  are  still  in  prepara- 
tion for  us,  what  we  are  yet  doomed  to  sufl^er,  it  is  painful 
and  difficult  to  conceive;  upon  the  success  of  the  contest 
which  we   are   now  carrying  on,  depends  the  tremendous 

*  This  Sermon  was  written  during  the  French  Revolution. 


100  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR  COUNTRY. 

/  question,  whether  Europe  shall  or  shall  not  be  visited  by  a 
i  long  period  of  political  struggles ;  and  liberal  arts,  domestic 
'  happiness,  and  rational  piety  be  forgotten  and  destroyed  in 
the  sorrows  and  the  fury  of  revolutions.  Our  feelings  are 
just  now  a  little  blunted  from  the  long  continuation  of  the 
.  danger  ;  but  no  man  can  seriously  turn  his  eyes  to  the  position 
of  the  world,  without  being  sensible,  that  till  this  great  gulf 
be  passed  over,  every  hope  of  honest  ambition,  every  wish 
for  repose,  every  feeling  which  warms  the  heart,  may  be  but 
a  new  cause  of  misery  and  despair.  From  all  these  evils 
may  the  solid  understanding  and  watchful  courage  of  this 
country,  guided  and  blessed  by  the  providence  of  God,  pro- 
tect and  defend  us ;  and  may  he  shelter,  with  his  Almighty 
power,  a  humane,  a  generous,  and  an  ancient  people,  who 
may  now,  perhaps,  be  destined  to  preserve  to  the  human  race 
those  indehble  rights  of  our  nature,  of  which  they  were  tho 
first  to  teach  them  the  value  and  the  use. 


<";^^ 


SERMON   XIV. 

ON  SKEPTICISM. 


Let  the  lying  lips  be  put  to  silence,  which  cruelly,  disdainfully,  and  mali- 
ciously speak  against  the  righteous. — Psalm  xxxi.  verse  20. 

To  neglect  those  floating  imputations  and  popular  calum- 
nies which  are  in  circulation  against  any  system  either 
moral,  religious  or  political,  is  rather  magnanimous  than 
wise,  and  savours  more  of  a  generous  contempt  for  danger, 
than  of  prudent  precaution  against  it.  Bold  assertions  and 
specious  invectives  often  repeated,  begin  at  last  to  be  credited; 
we  hear  the  calumny  so  often  united  to  its  object,  that  the 
mention  of  the  one  almost  mechanically  introduces  the  notion 
of  the  other ;  and  we  are  betrayed  into  dangerous  prejudices, 
rather  by  a  principle  of  association  than  by  any  decision  of 
the  judgment. 

There  is  too,  besides,  a  fashion  in  thinking  as  in  every- 
thing else,  and  the  giddy  part  of  mankind  must  ever  appear 
in  the  newest  philosophy,  and  the  most  admired  system  of 
ethics,  or  depravity,  which  the  day  has  to  exhibit.  In  an 
age  of  devotion,  they  lead  in  hypocrisy,  regulate  the  punc- 
tilios of  supplication,  and  adjust  all  the  modes  and  minutiae 
of  piety.  In  an  age  of  philosophy,  they  are  the  first  to  dis- 
believe in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  to  discredit  the  evi- 
dence of  their  senses,  and  to  doubt  of,  discredit,  and  deride 
everything  else  which  the  rules  of  fashionable  skepticism 
require. 

If  there  be  any  truth  in  this,  and  if  the  world  be  led  to 
such  unreasonable  conclusions  from  such  unreasonable  causes, 
it  is  important  to  remark  the  modes  of  thinking  of  the  times, 
and  to  select  for  animadversion,  those  trite,  but  prevailing 
opinions  which  endanger  the  well-being  of  society. 

9* 


103  ON  SKEPTICISM. 

It  is  a  leading  object  with  skeptics,  to  bring  into  disrepute 
the  character  of  Christianity,  of  its  teachers  and  adherents ; 
and  one  mode  by  which  they  attempt  it  is,  by  attaching  to 
all  mention  of  these  subjects,  the  ideas  of  intolerance,  bigotry 
and  narrowness  of  mind ; — the  opposite  virtues  they  ascribe 
to  their  own  sect,  as  candour,  liberality,  the  spirit  of  discus- 
sion, and  an  exemption  from  every  human  prejudice ;  and 
such,  (as  I  have  before  remarked,)  are  the  effects  of  invec- 
tive, and  assertion  frequently  repeated,  that  those  who  have 
not  formed  to  themselves  precise  notions  of  what  these  opera- 
tive terms  imply,  and  who  have  not  learned  the  necessity  of 
ascertaining  their  due  application  by  a  steady  appeal  to  facts, 
are  apt  to  admit  both  the  justice  of  the  imputations  which  this 
sect  of  philosophers  make,  and  of  the  pretensions  to  which 
they  aspire. 

To  the  youthful,  everything  which  appears  open  and 
generous,  is  so  agreeable,  everything  which  conveys  the 
idea  of  narrowness,  concealment,  or  deceit,  is  so  obnoxious, 
that  they  literally  become  ashamed  of  their  religion,  and  feel 
abashed  at  their  faith,  before  these  men  of  liberal  sentiment 
and  extended  inquiry. 

It  is  very  easy  to  see  the  pernicious  consequences  to  which 
this  will  lead ;  the  horror  which  a  young  man  of  talent  feels, 
is  the  horror  of  being  unknown  and  unadmired ;  he  cannot 
wait  to  think  of  distant  consequences,  the  parade  of  disbelief 
is  too  tempting  for  him,  and  he  becomes  a  deist;  a  little  time 
elapses,  and  from  the  same  vanity  of  extending  (or  appearing 
to  extend)  investigation,  he  begins  to  call  in  question  a  super- 
intending Providence,  and  a  sense  of  right  and  wrong ;  and 
descending  through  a  long  train  of  theories  and  systems, 
from  bad  to  worse,  he  subsides  into  a  state  of  complete  skep^ 
ticism  upon  every  question  whatsoever.  Is  this  a  spectacle 
which  it  is  possible  for  any  human  being  to  behold  with 
indifference  ?  A  young  man  standing  on  the  threshold  of 
life,  and  just  going  into  all  the  business  of  the  world,  with  a 
heart  in  which  every  principle  of  right  and  wrong  is  tho- 
roughly shaken  and  impaired !  If  not  destined  for  great 
offices  in  public  life,  yet  he  is  a  brother,  a  son,  a  friend ;  he 
is  to  be  a  husband,  and  a  father  of  children ;  some  must  trust 
him,  and  some  must  love  him.  Call  it  bigotry,  and  cover 
these  notions  with  mockery  and  derision ;  but  I  say  it  would 
be  better  for  this  young  man,  that  the  work  of  death  were 
going  on  within  him,  that  the  strength  and  the  roses  of  his 


ON  SKEPTICISM.  10§ 

youth  were  fading  away,  and  that  he  were  wasting  down  to 
the  tombs  of  his  ancestors,  wept  by  his  friends,  and  pitied  by 
the  world. 

If  I  am  right  in  considering  these  effects  to  be  so  perni- 
cious, let  us  examine  on  what  foundation  such  high-minded 
pretensions  rest,  and  whether  there  be  any  set  of  men  who 
have  a  right  to  consider  themselves  as  so  far  advanced  beyond 
their  fellow-creatures  in  the  spirit  of  wisdom,  and  to  look 
down  upon  the  rest  of  mankind  with  anger  and  contempt. 

In  speaking  of  those  who  disbelieve  in  Christianity,  I  am 
very  far  from  including,  in  my  observations,  every  person  of 
this  description. 

The  truth  of  Christianity  rests  upon  its  own  internal  evi- 
dence, and  the  evidence  of  history.  It  is  impossible  to  account 
for  the  aberrations  of  human  reason ;  evidence  of  the  strongest 
kind  is  daily  excepted  to  by  men  of  unquestionable  talents 
and  sincerity ;  to  us  the  proofs  of  the  truth  of  our  religion 
appear  manifest  and  strong  ;  that  they  shall  not  appear  so  to 
others  is  certainly  possible,  because  every  irrational  con- 
clusion is  possible.  Whoever  has  examined  the  question 
with  that  candid  and  investigating  spirit  which  its  extreme 
importance  demands  :  whoever  respects,  with  an  amiable 
and  principled  modesty,  the  common  behef  of  mankind  on 
this  topic,  however  it  may  differ  from  his  own  particular 
persuasion ;  whoever  would  rather  conceal  what  he  considers 
to  be  an  exemption  from  prejudice,  and  a  proof  of  superior 
talent  in  himself,  than  weaken  any  rehgious  restraint,  or 
impair  any  virtuous  principle  in  the  bosom  of  any  one  human 
being ;  whoever  believes  it  possible  for  a  Christian  to  be  tho- 
roughly impressed  with  the  truth  of  his  religion,  without 
forfeiting  all  pretensions  to  sincerity,  to  talent,  and  to  learn- 
ing ;  against  such  a  man  I  am  not  now  lifting  up  my  voice  ; 
may  God  enlighten  his  darkness,  and  convert  his  heart ! 
But  it  is  that  sect  of  men  I  am  endeavouring  to  single  out, 
who,  in  all  the  common  intercourse  of  life,  obtrude  upon  you 
their  blasphemy  and  their  skepticism ;  who  pant  to  tell  you 
they  have  no  God ;  and  are  restless  till  they  have  convinced 
you  they  have  trampled  under  foot  every  pleasant  hope  and 
every  decent  restriction  in  life ;  who  think  that  a  few  silly/ 
pleasantries  and  slender  arguments  are  a  sufficient  prepa- 
ration to  decide  on  these  proofs  of  a  future  life  ;  men  who 
(while  they  think  they  have  monopolized  all  liberal  sentiment, 
and  all  acute  inquiry),  are  persecuting  in  their  toleration, 


104  ON  SKEPTICISM. 

bigoted  in  their  liberality,  and  furious  in  their  moderation. 
These  are  the  men  who  have  made  the  very  name  of  philo- 
sophy a  term  of  reproach  ;  who  have  been  the  cause,  that  the 
plea  of  liberahty  cannot  now  be  heard  without  a  sneer  of  sus- 
picion ;  these  are  they  who  have  destroyed,  in  the  mass  of 
mankind,  all  veneration  for  the  labours  of  speculative  wis- 
dom ;  who  have  really  put  back  the  world,  diminished  every 
rational  hope  of  improvement ;  and  by  bringing  the  whole 
healing  art  into  disrepute,  have  made  men  cleave  to  their 
ulcers  and  their  pains,  and  shudder  at  the  hand  which  is  held 
out  to  offer  them  relief. 

In  their  depreciation  of  religion,  and  the  religious,  persons 
of  skeptical  opinions  are  accustomed  to  make  a  very  copious 
use  of  history ;  they  can  from  thence  show,  that  there  was  a 
period  when  men  were  utterly  debarred  from  all  freedom  of 
opinion  upon  rehgious  subjects,  when  this  intolerance  was 
manifested  in  the  most  cruel  persecutions,  by  an  artful  and 
ambitious  priesthood,  who  governed  and  who  pillaged  the 
world. 

These  facts  may  be  true ;  but  they  do  not  justify  the  infer- 
ences which  are  drawn  from  them,  vlf  everything  is  to  be 
considered  as  bad  in  itself,  which  is  capable  of  being  abused, 
liberty,  wealth,  learning,  and  power,  ought  rather  to  be  the 
objects  of  our  aversion  than  our  choice ;  every  good  principle 
has  been  at  times  perverted ;  every  good  institution  has  been 
gradually  elaborated  from  the  sufferings  and  afflictions  of  the 
world :  man,  doubly  wretched,  slowly  toils  on  to  perfection, 
earning  his  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  and  his  wisdom 
by  the  sorrows  of  his  heart. 

But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  have  these  historical  imputa- 
tions, these  invectives  of  rolls  and  records,  to  do  with  the 
principles  and  practice  of  the  present  day;  a  day  in  which 
the  pretensions  of  every  class  of  men  are  kept  in  due  bounds  _ 
by  the  enHghtened  condition  of  all,  and  in  which  every  one 
is  left  to  worship  God  according  to  his  own  ideas  of  truth  ? 
The  object  is  not  to  show  what  establishments  have  been, 
and  what  Christianity  has  been  in  dark  ages,  but  to  show 
the  natural  spirit  and  tendency  of  both.  If  it  can  be  shown 
that  there  is  anything  in  the  Christian  religion  necessarily 
connected  with  bigotry  and  intolerance,  this  objection  would 
be  pertinent  and  powerful ;  but  to  suppose  that  a  Christian 
is  a  bigot  now,  because  there  were  very  few  Christians  who 
were  not  so  three  hundred  years  ago,  is  to  suppose  the  exist- 


ON  SKEPTICISM.  105 

ence  of  principles  and  causes  which  every  cool,  unprejudiced 
mind  perceives  to  have  long  ago  lost  their  influence  upon 
mankind.  We  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  make  this  mahcious 
anachronism  more  general,  and  we  shall  say,  that  natural 
philosophy  is  conjecture,  the  medical  art  empiricism,  and 
law  a  system  of  ingenious  depredation,  because  there  have 
been  periods  in  which  these  sciences  were  all  exposed  to  such 
imputations. 

The  fact  is,  (and  such  I  beheve  to  be  the  opinion  of  every 
man  who  loves  truth  more  than  party,  let  his  religious  opin- 
ions be  what  they  may,)  that  a  disbelief,  not  only  in  Chris- 
tianity, but  in  a  superintending  Providence,  is  travehng 
down  from  the  metaphysician  to  the  common  haunts  and 
ordinary  scenes  of  life ;  that  men  are  giving  up  the  practical 
morality  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  true  and  wholesome  terror  of 
a  God,  who  have  no  beautiful  and  classical  theory  of  morals 
to  substitute  in  its  place,  but  who,  if  they  are  not  Christians, 
must  be  wild  beasts.  These  are  the  dangers  which  now 
threaten  us ;  we  have  not,  in  the  present  state  of  the  world, 
to  fear  that  we  shall  be  manacled  again  by  superstition,  but 
that  the  golden  chain  which  reaches  from  heaven  to  earth, 
should  be  broken  asunder,  and  not  one  link  of  it  again  be 
found. 

If  philosophy  be  a  love  of  knowledge,  evinced  by  an  ardent 
and  able  pursuit  of  it,  there  can  surely  be  nothing  to  exclude 
the  firm  believer  in  Christianity  from  every  honourable  dis- 
tinction which  this  appellation  can  convey.  The  subject 
which  engages  his  attention  is  unquestionably  superior  in 
importance  to  every  other  which  can  occupy  the  wit  of  man ; 
the  prosecution  of  it  involves  wide  historical  research,  much 
curious  and  delicate  examination  of  evidence,  much  labour, 
and  many  vigils  of  the  mind  ;  and  he  who  gets  up  from  these 
studies  a  sincere  Christian,  is,  for  aught  I  know,  as  much  a 
philosopher  as  the  atheist  who  has  studied  away  his  soul, 
elaborated  his  theory  of  annihilation  from  whole  libraries,  and 
given  up  one  life  to  discover  there  is  no  other. 

A  great  many  human  beings  must  take  their  rehgion  upon 
trust ;  few  have  leisure,  and  few  have  talents,  for  speculative 
inquiries ;  but  let  me  ask,  which  is  the  more  commendable 
and  noble,  to  believe  in  Christianity  without  proof,  or  to  dis" 
beheve  in  it  without  proof?  A  modest  coincidence  with 
received  opinions  above  our  faculties,  or  an  affected  contempt 
of  them  ?    Whether  there  is  a  more  disgusting  spectacle  than 


% 


106  ON  SKEPTICISM. 

arrogant  mediocrity  ?  Whether  we  cannot  more  easily  allow 
for  that  inchnation  which  bends  towards  a  rehgion  of  com- 
fortable promise,  than  that  which  leans  to  a  system  of  cold 
despondency  ?  Whether  there  is  not  something  pleasant  in 
seeing  our  fellow-creatures  cHng  to  a  faith  which  arranges 
the  world,  and  cheers  it  ?  And  if  it  is  not  afflicting  to  behold , 
that  depraved  appetite  for  misery  and  despair  which  induces 
men  to  yield  up  their  assent  to  a  system  of  incredulity,  with- 
out being  acquainted  in  the  smallest  degree  with  the  reasons 
on  which  it  is  founded  ? 

Those  who  are  so  fond  of  preferring  the  charge  of  bigotry 
against  Christians  should  remember  how  intimately  this  at- 
tachment to  our  opinions  is  interwoven  in  our  constitution, 
and  how  much  more  likely  it  is  to  display  itself  upon  subjects* 
of  such  extreme  importance  as  that  of  religion :  whoever  has 
made  Christianity  his  rule  of  action  in  this  world,  and  his 
hope  in  the  next,  whose  original  conviction  has  been  strength- 
ened by  habit,  and  warmed  by  devotion,  and  can  bear  in  this 
tenour  of  mind,  to  hear  that  he  has  been  believing  in  a  fable, 
that  his  labour  is  lost,  and  his  hope  illusive ;  whoever  can 
bear  to  hear  these  assertions,  and  to  discuss  them  without 
transgressing  the  rules  of  candour,  possesses  the  love  of  truth 
in  a  degree  truly  inimitable,  for  he  risks  all  his  happiness  in 
pursuit  of  it.  But  if,  in  spite  of  this  plea  of  mitigation,  the 
want  of  candour  be  so  offensive  in  a  Christian,  what  shall  we 
say  to  that  most  extraordinary  of  all  characters,  a  bigoted 
skeptic?  who  resists  the  force  of  proof  where  he  has  every 
temptation  to  be  convinced,  who  ought  to  pant  for  refutation, 
and  to  bless  the  man  who  has  reasoned  him  to  silence  ? 
Bigotry  in  him  is  the  pure  unadulterated  vice ;  it  is  not  the 
fear  of  losing  an  opinion  on  which  his  happiness  depends,  but 
the  fear  of  losing  an  opinion  merely  because  it  is  an  opinion ; 
and  this  is  the  very  essence  of  obstinacy  and  pride. 

Where  men  pretend  to  notliing,  the  world  is  indulgent  to 
their  faults ;  but  it  well  behoves  those  who  lord  it  in  word 
and  thought  over  the  rest  of  mankind,  that  they  be  consistent 
in  their  conduct,  and  perfectly  free  from  those  faults  which 
they  so  liberally  impute  to  others.  Ignorance,  bigotry  and 
ilHberality  are  bad  enough  in  their  simple  state ;  but  when 
men  of  slender  information,  narrow  views  and  obstinate  dis- 
positions, insult  the  feelings,  and  despise  the  understandings 
of  such  of  their  fellow-creatures  who  have  fixed  their  faith 
in  an  amiable  and  benevolent  rehgion,  we  are  called  upon 


ON  SKEPTICISM.  107 

by  common  sense  and  by  common  spirit,  to  resist,  and  to 
extinguish  this  dynasty  of  fools. 

To  those  great  men  on  whom  God  has  breathed  a  larger 
portion  of  his  spirit,  whom  he  has  sent  into  the  world  to  en- 
large the  empire  of  talent  and  of  truth,  mankind  will  ever 
pay  a  loyal  obedience  :  they  are  our  natural  leaders;  they  are 
the  pillars  of  fire  which  brighten  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
and  make  straight  the  paths  of  the  wilderness ;  they  must 
move  on  before  us ;  but  while  we  give  loose  to  our  natural 
veneration  for  great  talents,  let  us  not  mistake  laxity  for 
liberality,  the  indelicate  boldness  of  a  froward  disposition  for 
the  grasping  strength  and  impulsive  curiosity  of  an  original 
mind ;  let  us  steadily  discountenance  the  efforts  of  bad  men, 
and  of  shallow  men,  to  darken  the  distinctions  between  right 
and  wrong ;  to  bring  into  ridicule  and  contempt  the  religion 
of  their  country ;  and  to  gratify  some  popular  talent  at  the 
expense  of  the  dearest  interests  of  mankind. 

Bigotry  and  intolerance  are  their  terms  of  alarm  ;  but  do 
not  imagine  that  bigotry  and  intolerance  are  the  creatures  of 
religion,  and  not  the  creatures  of  atheism, — wherever  igno- 
rance, wherever  passion,  wherever  insolence  reside, — you 
will  see  the  same  Wind  and  bloated  vehemence  idly  strug- 
ghng  with  the  wildness  of  human  thought,  and  bending  the 
elastic  mind  of  man  to  its  own  little  standard  of  truth.  The 
infidel  clings  as  tenaciously  to  what  he  denies,  as  the  reli- 
gionist does  to  what  he  affirms  ; — arm  him  with  power,  will 
he  be  more  tolerant  ? — will  he  suffer  you  to  build  temples  ? 
to  pray  openly  to  your  God,  and  to  insult  his  doubts  with 
the  profession  of  a  faith,  which,  in  the  deep  wickedness  of 
his  heart,  he  judges  to  be  the  consummation  of  all  absurdity  ? 
— Toleration  is  the  creature  of  benevolence  and  of  wisdom ; 
what  have  the  shallow  sneers  and  scoffings  of  infidelity  to 
do  with  this  heavenly  forbearance  ?  do  not  be  mocked  by 
such  idle  pretensions  ;  if  atheism  ever  rears  its  head  among 
men,  piety  will  mourn  and  bleed  ;  the  broken  heart  must  no 
longer  cry  aloud  in  prayer ;  they  will  stop  the  song  of  the 
priest ;  they  will  pull  down  thy  altars,  oh  Israel,  even  to  the 
ground. 

To  that  small,  but  invaluable  class  of  men  who  have  steadily 
kept  down  the  natural  tendency  to  violence,  and  who  have 
such  an  exquisite  tact  for  truth,  that  they  can  extract  it  pure 
from  the  fury  and  misrepresentation  of  all  parties,  are  we  to 
look  for  our  barrier  against  the  danger  with  which  we  appear 


108  ON  SKEPTICISM. 

to  be  threatened.  To  such  men,  this  madness  of  incredulity 
and  lust  of  doubt  will  be  a  matter  of  uniform  resistance  and 
profound  regret ;  they  will  know  that  the  path  assigned  to 
human  reason,  though  lofty,  is  limited,  and  they  will  sigh  over 
her  present  excess,  as  well  as  her  original  imbecility  ;  as  the 
steady  friends  of  human  nature  they  will  never  believe  that 
the  cause  of  real  improvement  is  advanced  by  men  who  are 
neither  profound  in  the  theory  of  religion,  nor  pure  in  its 
practice;  against  such  men  they  will  bend  the  brow,  and  shut 
the  heart,  and  exert  the  real  authority  they  possess  in  the 
world,  "  to  put  to  silence  the  lips  which  cruelly,  disdainfully, 
and  despitefully,  speak  against  the  righteous." 


M 
'.4- 


I^   't 

SERMON    XV. 
THE    POOR    MAGDALENE. 

PREACHED    BEFORE    THE    SCOTCH    MAGDALENE    SOCIETY. 


Daughter,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee. — Luke  vii.  verse  48. 

The  little  narrative  of  which  this  text  is  a  part,  presents 
so  beautiful  a  picture  of  profound  sorrow  and  virtuous  humili- 
ation, that  I  am  sure  you  will  excuse  me,  if  I  give  it  you 
more  in  detail. 

"  Behold  a  woman  in  the  city,  which  was  a  sinner,  when 
she  knew  that  Jesus  sat  at  meat,  stood  behind  him,  weeping,  and 
began  to  wash  his  feet  with  her  tears,  and  did  wipe  them  with 
the  hairs  of  her  head,  and  kissed  his  feet,  and  anointed  them 
with  ointment ;  and  he  turned  to  the  woman,  and  said  to  Si- 
mon, seest  thou  this  woman  ?  I  entered  into  thine  house,  thou 
gavest  me  no  water  for  my  feet ;  but  she  hath  washed  my 
feet  with  her  tears,  and  dried  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head. 
Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss :  but  this  woman,  since  the  time  I 
came  in,  hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  Mine  head  with 
oil  thou  didst  not  anoint ;  but  this  woman  hath  anointed  my 
head  with  ointment :     Daughter,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee." 

There  is  something  in  the  sorrow  of  this  poor,  unknown 
woman,  which  is  touching  and  sublime :  A  delicate  spirit, 
abashed  with  the  wisdom,  and  purity  of  Jesus,  a  lowliness 
which  forbade  lamentation,  a  remorse  which  precluded  hope, 
a  heart  broken  with  public  scorn  and  inward  shame.  She 
said  nothing,  she  had  no  hope  of  mercy,  nor  dream  of  salva- 
tion for  her  soul ;  but  giving  loose  to  that  enthusiasm  for  the 
good,  from  which  the  worst  of  our  species  are  not  wholly  ex- 
empt, and  remembering,  perhaps,  the  days  when  she  was 
innocent  and  happy,  she  never  ceased  to  Avash  the  feet  of 
10 


^m 


110  THE  POOR  MAGDALENE. 

Jesus  with  her  tears,  and  to  dry  them  with  the  hairs  of  her 
head. 

Jesus  did  not  reject  this  poor  creature  ;  he  forgave  her  sins ; 
and  you  bless  the  mercy  of  your  Saviour.  Bear  then  in  mind 
this  picture,  and  imitate  that  mercy  which  you  love.  The 
ipoor  women  in  whose  behalf  I  am  this  day  to  plead,  present 
themselves  before  you  with  the  deepest  shame,  and  the  most 
profound  contrition  :  they  are  fully  sensible  of  their  unworthi- 
ness  ;  they  would  kiss  the  ground  on  which  you  tread ;  they 
would  wash  your  feet  with  their  tears  :  have  mercy  on  them, 
for  they  are  wretched  ;  and  if  you  cannot  forgive  their  sins, 
at  least  alleviate  their  sorrows. 

Before  1  enter  at  length  upon  this  subject,  it  maybe  neces- 
sary to  state  to  you,  that  the  principal  object  Avith  the  society, 
now  called  the  Magdalene  Society,  is  to  reclaim  unhappy  and 
deluded  females  from  a  vicious  course  of  life,  to  inure  them 
to  habits  of  industry,  to  reconcile  them  to  their  families,  and 
restore  them  to  a  sense  of  rehgion.  It  is  nearly  two  years 
since  this  Society  was  first  founded ;  and  during  that  time 
forty-four  women  have  been  admitted  to  the  benefit  of  the 
institution.  You  will  be  curious  to  know  the  result,  and  I 
will  lay  it  before  you  with  the  greatest  candour.  In  some 
women  the  habits  of  vice  have  been  found  so  deeply  fixed, 
that  it  was  not  possible  to  eradicate  them ;  such  have  of  course 
been  dismissed  from  the  asylum,  though  by  no  means  wholly 
abandoned :  The  salvation  of  a  fellow-creature  has  been  al- 
ways deemed,  by  those  who  superintend  this  institution,  as 
much  too  sacred  an  object  to  be  given  up  while  activity 
could  suggest  a  single  effort,  which  reason  could  sanction. 
But  I  have  the  greatest  pleasure  in  assuring  you,  that  the 
cares  of  the  Society  have  been  eminently  successful  in  by 
far  the  greatest  number  of  instances ;  and  that  many  poor 
women  who  would  (but  for  this)  have  dragged  on  a  wretched 
and  ignominious  life,  have  been  reconciled  to  their  parents, 
received  into  reputable  famihes  as  servants,  and  placed,  by 
a  sense  of  their  past  misery  and  present  comfort,  beyond 
the  rational  probability  of  relapse.  There  are  at  present 
twenty  women  in  the  house  ;  and  the  frequent  apphcation  for 
admission,  from  the  most  miserable  objects  possible,  which 
the  contracted  state  of  their  funds  has  compelled  the  society 
to  reject,  has  occasioned  this  appeal  to  the  charity  of  the 
public. 

It  must  not  be  dissembled,  that  there  are  some  respectable, 


«f 


THE  POOR  MAGDALENE.  IH 

and  well-meaning  people  unfavourable  to  this  institution, 
from  a  conception  that  it  encourages  vice  :  that  women,  who 
have  so  far  forgotten  every  principle  of  virtue,  ought  to  be 
abandoned  to  their  fate ;  and  that  to  take  so  lively  an  interest 
in  the  situation  and  circumstances  of  such  depraved  charac- 
ters, is  neither  proper  in  itself,  nor  encouraging  to  those  who 
are  virtuous  and  good. 

But  if  it  were  true,  that  a  facility  to  escape  from  the  miseries 
of  vice,  operates  as  an  inducement  to  crime,  are  we  wholly  to 
exclude  all  consideration  for  the  individual  sufferer,  and  ren- 
der wretchedness  coeval  with  life,  for  the  sake  of  pubhc  ex- 
ample ?  Vice  besides  does  not  originate  from  computation  of 
probabilities,  and  accurate  adjustment  of  future  good  and  evil, 
but  from  ignorance,  weak  notions  of  duty,  bad  government  of 
the  mind,  and  dangerous  situation.  Let  us  advert  to  the  real 
facts.  A  poor  young  creature,  allured  from  the  country, 
perhaps,  by  idle  dreams  of  wealth  and  ambition,  is  placed  in 
the  middle  of  a  large  town,  far  removed  from  her  parents  and 
friends,  and  exposed  to  every  temptation  which  the  most 
infamous  artifices  can  suggest.  Bad  must  he  be,  indeed,  who 
would  think  to  palliate  a  crime  here  in  the  face  of  God,  and 
the  people  ;  but  feeling  as  I  do  most  deeply  for  the  poor 
women  whose  cause  I  have  undertaken,  it  is  my  duty  to 
bring  to  your  remembrance,  those  circumstances  which  fixed 
their  ill-fated  destiny,  and  made  them  what  they  are,  the 
daughters  of  affliction  ;  degraded ;  suppliants  to  God  and 
man.  It  is  no  imaginary  picture  I  paint  to  you,  but  the  crimes 
of  real  life.  I  repeat  again,  that  the  most  atrocious  artifices 
are  daily  put  in  practice  against  the  lower  class  of  women, 
and  by  men  in  whom  religion,  education,  and  rank  in  life, 
ought  to  have  infused  far  other  principles  of  honour,  dignity, 
and  compassion ;  who,  besides  all  other  considerations,  ought 
to  know,  that  he  who  sacrifices  the  innocence  of  a  woman,  who 
looks  up  to  her  character,  and  her  labour  for  honest  support, 
gives  up  a  human  creature  to  want,  and  to  crime,  to  untimely 
depravity,  and  to  early  death. 

The  tender  age  of  many  of  these  poor  creatures  is  a  cir- 
cumstance which  pleads  powerfully  to  your  compassion. 
The  necessary  sacrifice  of  prudence  to  poverty,  is  the  source 
of  many  vices,  as  it  ought  to  be  of  much  indulgence,  to  the 
lower  classes  of  mankind.  At  the  very  period  when  the 
child  requires  most  the  advice  and  vigilance  of  the  mother, 
she  is  compelled  to  quit  her  home  for  new  and  dangerous 


112  THE  POOR  MAGDALENE. 

scenes,  and  is  left  to  her  own  fatal  guidance,  at  the  most 
perilous  moment  of  life.  There  are  women  in  this  Society 
of  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  of  age,  fit  objects  truly  of  that 
pious  compassion  they  have  moved,  and  that  fatherly  protec- 
tion they  have  received ;  thus  while  the  human  body  slowly 
toils  on  to  its  last  stature,  and  the  soul  late  unfolds  its  power, 
and  its  might,  every  bad  passion  is  swift  to  increase,  and 
before  nature  has  finished  her  work,  vice  has  sunk  it  to 
decay. 

You  feel  less  pity  for  these  women,  perhaps,  because  yoa 
associate  to  their  former  life,  riot,  extravagance,  and  mad 
luxury  :  rather  associate  to  it  the  feelings  of  infamy,  of  hun- 
ger, of  remorse,  of  houseless,  friendless,  and  unpitied  want : 
The  sufferings  of  the  respectable  poor  are  bad  enough  ;  but 
if  you  will  fathom  to  the  lowest  the  misery  of  our  nature, 
look  to  the  union  of  poverty  and  vice.  Behold  the  dying 
prostitute,  so  joyous  once,  so  innocent,  and  so  good,  behold 
her  in  some  dismal  recess  of  a  crowded  city,  slowly  yielding 
up  her  life  to  sorrow  and  to  pain.  So  lies  this  poor  forgotten 
creature,  without  the  blessing  of  parents,  or  the  voice  of  kins- 
men, or  the  sweet  counsel  of  friends,  and  when  you  see  her 
face  pale  with  weakness  and  her  limbs  withered  with  dis- 
ease, and  her  dwelhng  loathsome  from  want,  forget  not  that 
she  has  yet  a  sorrow  which  no  human  eye  can  reach,  the 
remembrance  of  a  mis-spent  life  has  broken  her  heart ;  and 
though  she  send  forth  no  plaintive  voice,  and  though  she  shed 
no  idle  tear,  she  is  mastered  by  an  unknown  spirit  within,  and 
sinks  sadly  down  to  her  long  and  lasting  home. 

To  such  scenes  as  these,  sound  policy  and  genuine  piety 
unite  to  call  your  attention  ;  to  educate,  to  reclaim,  to  diffuse 
morality  and  religion,  is  the  most  comprehensive  wisdom  and 
the  truest  philanthropy.  If  laws  give  efficacy  to  morals, 
morals  give  efficacy  to  laws  ;  and  it  is  rather,  perhaps,  in  the 
disposition  to  obey,  than  in  the  power  to  enact,  that  the  security 
for  human  happiness  consists. 

The  number  of  these  deluded  women  is  so  great,  and  their 
sufferings,  in  process  of  time,  so  lamentable,  that,  considered 
by  themselves,  they  become  an  object  of  political  interference, 
and  Christian  compassion ;  considered  as  to  its  "general  effects, 
the  increase  or  diminution  of  this  species  of  profligacy,  be- 
comes of  the  highest  civil  importance.  Who,  then,  shall  set 
bounds  to  those  labours  which  go  to  increase  the  sum  of 
virtue  in  a  state  ;  or  who  shall  assign  the  precise  limits  where 


THE  POOR  MAGDALENE.  1^ 

the  work  of  reformation  shall  stop,  and  the  bad  be  abandoned? 
If  education  have  been  tried  in  vain,  we  will  set  to  work  the 
great  engine  of  repentance,  which  rests  upon  experience, 
and  model  afresh  the  human  mind  softened  by  affliction.  The 
fears  of  mankind  are  in  general  resorted  to,  rather  than  their 
ductility  ;  and  it  is  more  common  to  punish  than  reclaim  ;  a 
supposed  necessity  alone  can  justify  this  rough  mehoration  of 
our  species  ;  but  the  voluntary  labours  of  the  truly  good  and 
respectable  men  who  preside  over  this  Society,  show  you  that 
no  such  necessity  exists,  and  deserve  your  warmest  protection, 
as  they  substitute  for  severity,  persuasion,  and  effect  the  purest 
end  by  the  gentlest  means. 

The  great  attention  which  has  always  been  paid  to  recon- 
cile reclaimed  children  to  their  parents,  is  a  very  pleasing 
feature  in  the  conduct  of  this  charity  ;  the  protection  and 
countenance  of  the  parent  give  stability  to  the  new  virtue  of 
the  child;  and  the  renewal  of  this  endearing  relation  is  strictly 
congenial  to  our  most  lively  feelings. 

A  young  female  was  received  some  time  since  into  the 
Society,  who,  in  consequence  of  the  infamous  character  she 
had  incurred,  had  been  wholly  abandoned  by  her  poor,  but 
respectable  parents,  for  above  four  years.  You  all  know 
the  extreme  care  with  which  the  poor  people  attend  to  the 
religious  and  moral  education  of  their  children  in  this  part  of 
the  world  ;  and  will,  I  am  sure,  in  the  goodness  of  your 
hearts,  anticipate  the  feehngs  of  two  poor  villagers  as  they 
speculated  on  the  future  prospects  of  their  late  beloved  inmate, 
their  fears  for  her  safety,  their  humble  ambition,  their  hope 
that  they  had  not  in  vain  suffered  want  for  her  improvement, 
their  ardent  prayer  to  Almighty  God  for  their  child.  Not  to 
dwell  upon  intermediate  scenes,  by  the  interference  of  the 
Society  ;  the  father  agreed  to  receive  his  daughter,  and  they 
were  brought  together ;  the  appearance  of  each,  just  before 
they  met,  was  wonderfully  impressive :  In  the  child  there 
were  marks  of  the  deepest  contrition  and  humility  ;  a  sense 
of  joy,  at  the  idea  of  seeing  her  father,  mingled  with  a  pertur- 
bation which  bordered  on  delirious  wildness  ;  in  the  poor  man 
there  was  an  honest  shame  at  the  disgrace  which  his  daughter 
had  incurred,  not  wholly  devoid  of  anger ;  but  it  was  easy  to 
see  how  much  his  compassion  ruled  over  every  other  feeling 
of  his  mind.  Such  was  the  interesting  appearance  of  these 
poor  people  before  they  met ;  but  when  they  saw  each  other, 
there  was  no  shame,  there  was  no  dread,  there  was  no  anger, 

10* 


114  THE  tOOR  MAGDALENE. 

there  was  no  contrition ;  but  there  were  tears,  and  cries,  and 
loud  sobbings,  and  convulsive  embraces,  and  the  father  wept 
over  his  daughter,  and  loved  her ;  and  they  that  saw  this, 
bear  witness  how  blessed  a  thing  it  is  to  snatch  a  human  soul 
from  perdition,  to  show  the  paths  of  God  to  poor  sinners,  and 
to  shower  down  the  glories  of  virtue  and  religion  on  the 
last  and  the  lowest  of  mankind.  Will  you  then  suffer  me 
to  plead  to  you  in  vain,  in  such  a  cause  as  this  ?  Will  you 
suffer  such  a  noble,  and  rational  charity  to  perish  now  at  its 
birth?  Will  you  turn  back  these  half  reclaimed  women, 
when  you  have  taught  them  the  full  measure  of  their  sin 
and  wretchedness  ?  Or,  if  a  human  being  say  to  you,  I  am 
doing  wrong ;  I  am  sinning  against  God,  and  man ;  I  am 
wretched  ;  I  know  not  where  to  turn  ;  pity  me,  and  show 
me  the  paths  of  eternal  life  ;  will  you  drive  back  the  penitent 
to  her  sins,  and  rage  with  all  the  severity  of  law,  and  censure 
when  you  have  refused  the  benefit  of  preventive  instruction  ? 

I  could  speak  to  you  for  hours  on  this  charity ;  but  I  have 
the  firmest  reliance  on  that  rational  goodness,  so  characteris- 
tic of  this  country,  and  before  which  no  true  object  of  misery 
ever  presented  itself  in  vain.  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  take  the 
nature  and  views  of  this  society  into  your  most  serious  con- 
sideration, and  only  to  promote  them  as  in  your  cool  judgment 
you  shall  deem  them  important  to  the  interest  of  true  religion 
and  social  order,  and  sanctioned,  as  I  most  firmly  believe  them 
to  be,  by  every  moral  probability  of  success. 

But  do  not  trust  to  the  faded  impressions  of  representation : 
Scenes  of  moral  improvement  are  always  gratifying,  and 
always  instructive :  view  with  your  own  eyes  the  strict  order 
and  decency  which  pervade  this  institution ;  converse  with 
the  humble  penitents,  and  hear  what  they  will  tell  you  of 
the  horrors  from  which  they  have  been  rescued,  of  their  pre- 
sent comfort,  and  their  hopes  of  immortality  revived.  The 
most  delicate  and  amiable  woman  need  not  blush  to  counte- 
nance with  her  presence,  this  school  of  moral  emendation : 
To  be  noticed  by  their  superiors  in  rank,  animates  the  exer- 
tions of  these  women,  and  lightens  the  task  of  reformation ; 
and  there  is  something  in  the  sight  of  living  purity  (such  as 
it  does  often  live  in  gentle  and  gracious  women),  that  makes 
the  heart  wiser  and  better  in  an  instant,  than  the  most  spi- 
rited harangues  on  the  nature,  and  glowing  descriptions  of 
the  excellence  of  virtue. 

My  fellow  Christians,  and  my  brothers,  hear  now  my  last 


THE  POOR  MAGDALENE.  115 

words  before  you  quit  this  solemn  place,  and  return  to  the 
business  and  bustle  of  the  world.  Half  a  century  will  scarce 
elapse,  and  every  being  here  present  will  be  dead ;  new 
men,  and  new  events  will  occupy  the  world,  and  the  dreaded 
pit  of  oblivion  will  shut  over  us  all.  Is  the  thought  of  an 
hereafter  dear  to  you  ?  Is  it  your  care  to  meet  the  great  God 
Avith  good  deeds  ?  Have  pity  then  on  these  forlorn  women  ; 
for  if  you  have  no  pity  on  them,  they  will  speedily  be  for- 
saken by  all :  lay  up  a  sweet  remembrance  for  the  evil  day; 
and  know,  that  the  best  mediation  with  God  Almighty,  the 
Father,  and  his  Son  of  mercy,  and  love,  is  the  prayer  of  a 
human  being  whom  you  have  saved  from  perdition. 


SERMON   XVI. 
UPON   THE   BEST  MODE  OF  CHARITY 


For  the  poor  shall  never  cease  out  of  the  land :  Therefore,  I  command 
thee,  saying,  Thou  shalt  open  thine  hand  wide  unto  thy  brother,  to  thy 
poor,  and  to  thy  needy  in  the  land. — Deuteronomy  xv.  verse  11. 

I  DO  not  propose  to  myself  so  very  comprehensive  a  subject 
as  that  of  a  general  exhortation  to  charity ;  but  presupposing 
a  due  disposition  in  the  minds  of  my  congregation  to  relieve 
the  wants  of  their  fellow-creatures,  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of 
suggesting  a  few  remarks  upon  the  proper  direction  and  just 
government  of  this  amiable  virtue. 

It  is  of  importance,  not  only  that  we  should  do  good,  but 
that  we  should  do  it  in  the  best  manner.  A  little  judgment, 
and  a  little  reflection  added  to  the  gift,  do  not  merely  en- 
hance the  value,  but  often  give  to  it  the  only  value  which  it 
possesses  ;  and  even  prevents  that  mischief  of  which  thought- 
less benevolence  is  sometimes  the  cause. 

Mankind  can  never  be  too  strongly,  or  too  frequently  cau- 
tioned against  self-deception.  If  a  state  of  vice  be  a  state  of 
misery,  a  state  of  vice  of  which  we  are  ignorant  is  doubly 
so,  from  the  increased  probability  of  its  duration.  It  is  sur- 
prising how  many  men  are  cheated  by  flighty  sentiments  of 
humanity  into  a  belief  that  they  are  humane ;  how  frequent- 
ly charitable  words  are  mistaken  for  charitable  deeds,  and 
a  beautiful  picture  of  misery  for  an  effectual  relief  of  it. 
There  are  many  who  have  tears  for  the  chaste  and  classical 
sorrow  of  the  stage,  who  have  never  submitted  to  go  into  the 
poor  man's  cottage,  to  hear  his  tedious  narrative,  and  to  come 
close  at  hand  with  poverty,  and  its  dismal  and  disgusting 
attendants.  Pure  moral  misery,  wrought  up  into  an  artful 
tale,  is  a  luxurious  banquet  for  the  refined  mind,  which  would 


il 


UPON  THE  BEST  MODE  OF  CHARITY.  1 17 

turn  away  from  the  gross  unhappiness  of  real  life,  where  the 
low  and  the  ludicrous  are  mingled  with  the  sad,  where  our 
deUcacy  is  offended,  while  our  feelings  are  roused,  and  we 
are  reminded,  not  only  of  the  misfortunes,  but  of  the  infirmi- 
ties of  man.  A  state  of  delicate  sensibihty  in  the  moral  feel- 
ings is  commendable,  or  blameworthy,  according  to  the  con- 
sequences to  which  it  leads  :  If  strong  impressions  of  human 
misery  rouse  us  to  the  relief  of  it,  they  are  faithful  monitors 
to  virtue,  and  cannot  be  too  effectually  preserved;  but  if  feel- 
ings are  mere  feelings,  and  do  not  stimulate  us  to  action,  they 
can  answer  no  other  purpose  than  to  display  ostentatious 
softness,  or  inflict  useless  suffering ;  if  men  indulge  in  specu- 
lations far  above  the  level  of  real  life,  the  danger  is,  that 
they  become  unfit  for  action.  Who  can  bear  the  muddy  pool, 
and  the  barren  sand  of  the  desert,  after  he  has  gazed  on  the 
beautiful  prodigies  of  a  fancy  landscape?  If  we  have  drawn 
romantic  notions  of  misfortune,  and  annexed  to  it  the  ideas 
of  venerable,  simple,  docile,  and  grateful,  we  shall  soon  be- 
come disgusted  with  the  practice  of  charity,  and  fly  back  to 
the  reveries  of  speculative  benevolence,  as  an  asylum  from  the 
disappointments  we  meet  with  in  the  world,  as  it  is  really 
constituted. 

Another  important  point  in  the  administration  of  charity, 
is  a  proper  choice  of  the  object  we  relieve.  To  give  promis- 
cuously is  better,  perhaps,  than  not  to  give  at  all.  But  instead 
of  risking  the  chance  of  encouraging  imposture,  discover 
some  worthy  family  struggling  up  against  the  world,  a 
widow  with  her  helpless  children,  old  people  incapable  of 
labour,  or  orphans  destitute  of  protection  and  advice ;  sup- 
pose you  were  gradually  to  attach  yourselves  to  such  real 
objects  of  compassion,  to  learn  their  Avants,  to  stimulate 
.  their  industry,  and  to  correct  their  vices ;  surely  these 
two  species  of  charity  are  not  to  be  compared  together  in  the 
utility,  or  in  the  extent  of  their  effects ;  in  the  benevolence 
they  evince  or  in  the  merits  they  confer.  If  you  wish  to 
gratify  the  feelings  or  avoid  the  reproaches  of  your  heart, 
with  as  little  trouble  to  yourself  as  possible,  you  may  lavish 
your  bounty  upon  the  first  object  you  meet,  without  knowing 
whether  you  are  gratifying  vice,  or  relieving  want ;  this  is  a 
kind  of  middle  course,  which,  though  it  fall  far  short  of  the 
dignity  of  virtue,  keeps  up  a  sort  of  comfortable  delusion, 
and  reconciles  us  in  some  measure  to  ourselves.  Whereas, 
he  who  is  charitable,  not  from  constitutional  feelings,  but 


118  UPON  THE  BEST  MODE  OF  CHARITY. 

from  a  wide,  strong,  and  imperative  sense  of  duty,  will  re-? 
member,  that  he  owes  to  the  poor,  not  only  that  which  he 
gives,  but  he  owes  to  them  the  happy  application  and  judi- 
cious distribution  of  the  gift ;  he  owes  to  them  a  certain  por- 
tion of  his  time  and  intelligence ;  the  exercise  of  that  influ- 
ence which  education,  wealth,  and  manners  always  have, 
and  always  ought  to  have  upon  the  lower  orders  of  mankind. 
This  is  the  steady,  enlightened  compassion  of  an  ample  mind 
and  a  good  heart ;  this  is  that  vigilant  and  wise  benevolence 
which  makes  happy  cottages  and  smiling  villages,  and  fills 
the  spirit  of  a  just  man  with  unspeakable  delight.  This 
patronage  or  adoption  of  the  indigent,  places  the  poor  under 
the  critical  inspection  of  their  superiors ;  it  blends  those  who 
want  control,  with  those  who  can  exercise  it ;  it  gives  to  the 
rich  a  taste  for  doing  good ;  to  the  poor,  a  love  and  veneration 
for  rank  and  power  ;  diffuses  civilization,  and  has  a  wonderful 
effect  in  promoting  good  order  and  general  improvement. 
Those  who  have  taken  notice  of  the  very  striking  difference 
between  such  villages  in  the  country,  where  the  poor  are 
deserted  by  their  natural  guides  and  leaders,  and  those  where 
they  have  some  truly  good  model  to  look  up  to,  will,  I  am 
sure,  need  no  other  proof  of  the  justice  of  these  remarks. 

The  true  reason  why  this  species  of  charity  is  so  rarely 
practised  is,  that  we  are  afraid  of  imposing  such  a  severe 
task  upon  our  indolence ;  though  in  truth,  all  these  kinds  of 
difficulties  are  extremely  overrated.  When  once  we  have 
made  ourselves  acquainted  with  a  poor  family,  and  got  into 
a  regular  train  of  seeing  them  at  intervals,  the  trouble  is 
hardly  felt,  and  the  time  scarcely  missed ;  and  if  it  is  missed, 
ought  it  to  be  missed  ?  Shall  we  lay  out  a  whole  life  in  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth  ? 
Shall  we  pawn  our  souls  to  party,  and  to  ambition,  and 
grudge  those  few  moments  which  we  give  up  to  solid  deeds 
of  virtue,  the  only  deeds  we  shall  look  back  on  with  pleasure, 
when  old  age,  and  death  near  at  hand,  show  us  the  world 
in  another  and  in  a  true  light  ?  Can  we  find  leisure  for  all 
the  intricacies  of  business  and  science,  and  no  leisure  to  re- 
concile the  man  to  his  own  heart  ?  Shall  we  go  to  our  grave, 
knowing  all  wisdom  but  the  best?  "  ^,''  says  Job,  in  the 
midst  of  his  afflictions,  "  j/"  /  have  withheld  the  poor  from 
their  desire^  or  have  caused  the  eyes  of  the  widow  to  fail,  or 
have  eaten  my  morsel  alone,  and  the  fatherless  have  not  eaten 
thereof:  If  I  have  seen  any  perish  for  want  of  covering,  or 


UPON  THE  BEST  MODE  OF  CHARITY.         1 19 

any  poor  without  clothing  ;  if  his  loins  have  not  blessed  me, 
and  if  he  were  not  warmed  with  the  fleece  of  my  sheep  :  If  I 
have  lifted  up  my  arm  against  the  fatherless  when  I  saw  my 
help  in  the  gate:  then  let  mine  arm  be  broken  from  the  bone, 
and  let  it  fall  from  my  shoulder  blade.'' 

These  charitable  visits  to  the  poor,  which  I  have  endea- 
voured to  inculcate,  are  of  importance,  not  only  because  they 
prevent  imposture,  by  making  you  certain  of  the  misery 
which  you  relieve,  but  because  they  produce  an  appeal  to 
the  senses  which  is  highly  favourable  to  the  cultivation  of 
charity.  He  who  only  knows  the  misfortunes  of  mankind 
at  second  hand,  and  by  description,  has  but  a  faint  idea  of 
what  is  really  suffered  in  the  world.  A  want  of  charity  is 
not  always  to  be  attributed  to  a  want  of  compassion.  The 
seeds  of  this  virtue  are  too  deeply  fixed  in  the  human  con- 
stitution, to  be  easily  eradicated :  but  the  appeal  to  this  class 
of  feelings  is  not  sufficiently  strong;  men  do  not  put  them- 
selves into  situations  where  such  feelings  are  liable  to  be 
called  forth :  they  judge  of  the  misfortunes  of  the  poor  through 
the  medium  of  the  understanding,  not  from  the  lively  and 
ardent  pictures  of  sensation.  We  feel  it  may  be  said,  the 
eloquence  of  description  ;  but  what  is  all  the  eloquence  of  art, 
to  that  mighty  and  original  eloquence  with  which  nature 
pleads  her  cause  ;  to  the  eloquence  of  paleness  and  of  hunger; 
to  the  eloquence  of  sickness  and  of  wounds  ;  to  the  eloquence 
of  extreme  old  age,  of  helpless  infancy,  of  friendless  want ! 
What  persuasives  like  the  melancholy  appearance  of  nature 
badly  supported,  and  that  fixed  look  of  sadness,  which  a  long 
struggle  with  misfortune  rivets  on  the  human  countenance  ! 
What  pleadings  so  powerful  as  the  wretched  hovels  of  the 
poor,  and  the  whole  system  of  their  comfortless  economy  !— 
These  are  the  moments  in  which  the  world  and  its  follies  are 
forgotten,  which  throw  the  mind  into  a  new  attitude  of  solemn 
thought,  which  have  rescued  many  a  human  being  from  dis- 
sipation and  crime,  which  have  given  birth  to  many  admi- 
rable characters,  and  multiplied,  more  than  all  exhortation,  the 
friends  of  man,  and  the  disciples  of  Christ. 

In  truth,  if  these  observations  be  anywhere  applicable  or 
necessary,  it  is  in  great  cities  that  they  are  peculiarly  so  ;  for 
as  misery  increases  with  vice,  and  dissipation  extinguishes 
charity,  the  poor  suffer  more,  and  meet  with  less  rehef,  at 
least  with  less  of  that  kind  of  rehef  which  proceeds  from  the 
exertions  and  interference  of  individuals.     Far  be  it  from  me, 


120         UPON  THE  BEST  MODE  OF  CHARITY. 

in  talking  of  the  dissipation  of  great  cities,  to  wage  war  with 
the  innocent  pleasures  of  life  ;  with  youth  there  should  be  joy, 
for  the  best  days  of  life  are  soon  fled ;  but  the  danger  is,  that 
amidst  the  constant  enjoyments  and  diversions  of  society,  the 
heart  should  become  callous,  and  lose  that  noble  irritability, 
that  moral  life,  which  is  the  parent  of  all  that  is  good  in  the 
world.  Enchanting  as  the  pleasures  of  society  appear,  they 
would  still  derive  an  additional  charm  from  the  consciousness 
that  you  deserved  to  enjoy  them,  that  you  had  acquired  a 
right  to  be  happy,  from  having  made  others  so  ;  and  that  an 
evening  of  innocent  gayety  was  earned  by  a  morning  of  vir- 
tuous exertion. 

You  are  not,  I  hope,  of  opinion,  that  these  kind  of  cares  de- 
volve upon  the  clergy  alone,  as  the  necessary  labours  of  their 
profession.  Those  who  teach  Christianity,  ought  certainly  to 
be  most  forward  in  every  Christian  exertion ;  but,  unquestion- 
ably, it  is  not  from  them  alone  that  these  exertions  are  ex- 
pected, but  from  every  one  whose  faith  teaches  and  whose 
fortune  enables  him  to  be  humane.  I  have  touched  on  this 
point,  because  such  an  opinion,  though  too  absurd  to  be  openly 
avowed,  is  not  too  absurd  for  that  crude  and  hasty  palliation 
with  which  we  smother  the  conscience  that  we  cannot  satisfy. 

Nor  let  it  be  imagined  that  the  duties  which  I  have  pointed 
out  are  much  less  pressing  and  imperative,  because  the  law 
has  taken  to  itself  the  protection  of  the  poor ;  the  law  must  hold 
out  a  scanty  and  precarious  relief,  or  it  would  encourage  more 
misery  than  it  reHeved ;  the  law  cannot  distinguish  between  the 
poverty  of  idleness  and  the  poverty  of  misfortune  ;  the  law  de- 
grades those  whom  it  relieves  ;  and  many  prefer  wretchedness 
to  public  aid  ;  do  not,  therefore,  spare  yourselves  from  a  belief 
that  the  poor  are  well  taken  care  of  by  the  civil  power ;  and  that 
individual  interference  is  superfluous  ; — many  a  hand  is  held 
up,  and  no  man  seeth  it ;  many  a  groan  is  wasted  in  the  air, 
many  die  in  secret,  and  like  the  moments  of  the  day,  they 
perish  and  are  forgotten.  Go  then,  while  good  days  are  yet 
left  to  you,  go  into  the  house  of  mourning,  under  the  roof  of 
affliction,  and  mingle  with  the  old,  the  wretched,  and  the  sad  : 
bow  down  thy  spirit  with  them,  and  chasten  thy  soul  with 
their  sorrow  ; — when  thy  feet  sound  on  the  threshold  of  the 
door,  the  widowed  woman  shall  say  there  is  bread  for  us  to- 
day ;  children  shall  flock  about  thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  to  them 
as  a  God ;  ancient  people  shall  have  joy  in  their  last  days  be- 
cause of  thee ;  thy  mind  shall  be  moved  within  thee,  and  the 


UPON  THE  BEST  MODE  OF  CHARITY.  121 

bread,  and  the  estate  of  the  poor  and  oppressed  shall  be  pre^ 
cious  in  thine  eyes. 

Many  are  charitable  in  order  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  grati- 
tude ;  an  accidental  good  if  it  comes,  but  an  unworthy  motive 
for  benevolence,  because  it  makes  the  virtue  to  depend  upon 
the  caprice  of  the  individual  towards  whom  it  is  exercised. 
For  the  permanent  and  unchangeable  rule  of  religion,  it  gives 
me  a  rule  which  varies  with  the  feelings  of  every  wretched 
being  whom  I  reheve.  If  my  taste  is  gratified  with  the  dis- 
play of  every  proper  sentiment,  I  am  compassionate  ;  but  the 
slightest  disgust  is  sufficient  to  avert  me  from  one  of  the  high- 
est duties  of  a  Christian ;  I  love  moral  effect  more  than  reH- 
gious  obedience ;  my  principal  object  is  not  to  reheve  human 
misery,  but  to  excite  in  my  own  mind  agreeable  feehng.  The 
pity  which  Jesus  taught  was  a  modest  and  invisible  pity, 
thinking  only  of  Hghtening  the  heavy  heart,  trembling  at 
fame,  fearful  lest  any  pleasure  in  the  gratitude  of  man  might 
mingle  with  the  spirit  of  charity,  and  pollute  the  pure  sacri- 
fice which  it  was  offering  up  to  God. 

To  conclude,  let  us  always  remember  that  every  charity 
is  short  lived  and  inefficacious,  which  flows  from  any  other 
motive  than  the  right.  There  is  a  charity  which  originates 
from  the  romantic  fiction  of  humble  virtue  and  innocence  in 
distress ;  but  this  will  be  soon  disgusted  by  low  artifice,  and 
scared  by  brutal  vice.  The  charity  which  proceeds  from 
ostentation  can  exist  no  longer  than  when  its  motives  remain 
undetected.  There  is  (as  I  have  just  stated),  a  charity  which 
is  meant  to  excite  the  feelings  of  gratitude,  but  this  will  meet 
with  its  termination  in  disappointment.  That  charity  alone 
endures,  which  flows  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and  a  hope  in 
God.  This  is  the  charity  that  treads  in  secret  those  paths  of 
misery,  from  which  all  but  the  lowest  of  human  wretches 
have  fled ;  this  is  that  charity  which  no  labour  can  weary, 
no  ingratitude  detach,  no  horror  disgust,  that  toils,  that  par- 
dons, that  suffers,  that  is  seen  by  no  man,  and  honoured  by 
no  man,  but,  Hke  the  great  laws  of  nature,  does  the  work  of 
God  in  silence,  and  looks  to  future  and  better  worlds  for  its 
reward. 

11 


'^Mtt 


SEEMON   XVII. 

ON  METHODISM. 


I  bear  them  record  that  they  hare  a  zeal  for  God,  but  not  according  tp 
knowledge.— Romans  x.  verse  2. 

There  is  a  sect  which,  of  late  years,  has  been  growing 
into  some  importance  in  this  country,  and  which,  from  the 
unwearied  activity  of  those  who  guide  it,  has  been  too  well 
received,  and  too  hastily  embraced ;  I  mean  that  sect  com- 
monly called  Methodists,  and  who  (though  less  numerous, 
perhaps,  than  the  friends  of  our  Church  Establishment  com- 
monly suppose),  are  still  numerous  enough,  and  sufficiently 
active  in  making  proselytes,  and  sufficiently  successful  to 
justify  that  watchful  attention  which  they  now  begin  to  expe- 
rience from  the  EstabHshed  clergy. 

Such  attention  is  still  more  necessary  at  this  period,  when 
enthusiasm,  formerly  confined  to  the  lowest  ranks  of  the  com- 
munity, has  sprung  up  among  the  rich  and  the  great ;  and 
when  it  derives  an  influence  as  considerable  from  the  wealth 
and  consequence  of  those  who  profess  it,  as  it  does  from  the 
seductive  nature  of  its  doctrines. 

Nothing  can  be  more  clear,  than  that  any  sect  has  a  perfect 
right  to  interpret  the  Gospel  after  its  own  manner,  or  to  infuse 
into  its  followers,  any  spirit  not  incompatible  with  the  pubhc 
peace.  Such  are  the  rights  of  sects  as  against  the  civil  power ; 
but  against  reason  and  inquiry,  no  sect  is,  or  ought  to  be  pro- 
tected ;  and  above  all,  that  sect  ought  not  which  proclaims 
itself  to  be  better  and  wiser  than  all  other  sects,  which  says, 
we  only  worship  the  true  God,  salvation  is  for  us  alone. 

In  applying  the  term  sect  to  persons  of  this  religious  per- 
suasion, and  in  distinguishing  them  from  the  Church  of  En- 
gland, I  do  not  found  that  distinction  upon  the  speculative 


ON  METHODISM.  123 

tenets  they  profess,  but  upon  the  general  spirit  they  display ; 
it  is  in  vain  to  say  you  belong  to  our  ancient  and  venerable 
communion,  if  you  lose  sight  of  that  moderation  for  which 
we  have  always  been  distinguished,  and,  instead  of  sameness 
of  spirit,  give  us  only  sameness  of  belief.  You  are  not  of  us 
(whatever  your  belief  may  be,)  if  you  are  not  as  sober  as  we 
are  ;  you  are  not  of  us  if  you  have  our  zeal  without  our  know- 
ledge ;  you  are  not  of  us  if  those  tenets,  which  we  have  always 
rendered  compatible  with  sound  discretion,  make  you  drunk 
and  staggering  with  the  new  wine  of  enthusiasm. 

Far  be  it  from  me,  in  pointing  out  those  pernicious  conse- 
quences, which  I  believe  to  result  from  this  sect  of  Christians, 
to  join  with  their  enemies  in  the  very  unjust  calumnies  which 
have  been  propagated  against  them ;  1  most  firmly  beheve 
that,  for  the  greater  part,  they  are  enthusiasts,  not  hypo- 
crites ;  that  they  are  doing  what  they  beheve  to  be  right,  and 
though  they  are  not  acting  up  to  their  very  exalted  profes- 
sions, yet  that,  upon  the  whole,  they  are  fairly  entitled  to  be 
called  sincere  Christians.  What  may  truly  be  objected  to 
them  is,  that,  meaning  to  be  the  friends  of  religion,  they  are 
its  greatest  enemies  ;  that,  wishing  to  extend  the  dominion  of 
the  Gospel  over  all  hearts,  they  are  ahenating  from  it  the  best 
understandings ;  that,  preparing  for  sacred  things,  new  tri- 
umph, and  wider  glory,  they  expose  sacred  things  to  the 
derision  and  scorn  of  the  wicked.  I  bear  them  record  that 
they  have  a  zeal  for  God,  but  not  according  to  knowledge. 

It  is  true  that  Methodism,  and  enthusiasm,  are  terms  often 
used  by  the  unrighteous,  to  ridicule  piety  under  whatever 
aspect  of  manliness  it  may  be  presented,  and  by  whatever 
soundness  of  discretion  it  may  be  controlled ;  but,  in  spite  of 
this,  there  is  a  real  excess,  there  is  a  righteousness  over- 
much ;  a  zeal  not  according  to  knowledge,  which  is  a  perpe- 
tual injury  to  true  religion :  the  very  name*  used  to  denote 
it,  however  unjustly  it  may  be  sometimes  apphed,  sufficiently 
demonstrates  among  what  description  of  Christians  those 
abuses  exist. 

When  any  man  whose  curiosity  may  be  roused  by  their 
high  pretensions,  or  whose  feelings  may  be  wounded  by  their 
unjust  reproaches,  first  turns  his  attention  upon  these  mem- 
bers of  the  Christian  Church,  there  is  nothing  which  so  much 
attracts  his  notice,  or  so  much  ofl^ends  his  notions  of  real  piety, 

*  Vital  Christianity.  >v^ 


124  ON  METHODISM. 

A  as  their  astonishing  arrogance  and  presumption;  they  speak 
"^  t  as  if  in  their  era  and  at  their  time  God  had  again  vouchsafed 
to  show  himself  to  his  people ;  as  if  a  new  dispensation  had 
been  accorded  to  the  world,  and  as  if  the  time  was  at  last  arrived 
when  they  were  permitted  to  show  to  mankind  the  true  know- 
ledge of  the  true  God:  they  speak  of  men  of  all  other  per- 
suasions as  the  children  of  darkness  and  error,  pitying  the 
whole  world  besides  themselves,  and  thanking  God  with  a 
very  needless  and  impious  gratitude,  that  he  has  made  them 
so  much  wiser  and  better  than  other  human  beings.  The 
gratification  of  this  spiritual  pride  is  become  in  fact,  almost 
one  of  their  rehgious  exercises ;  it  is  mingled  in  all  their  reli- 
gious meditations,  and  become  the  darling  and  consolation  of 
their  souls ;  "  God  J  thank  thee,  I  am  not  as  other  men  are, 
extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as  this  publican;^* 
thus  spake  the  Pharisee ;  "  but  the  publican,  standing  afar 
off,  would  not  so  much  as  lift  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  but  smote 
upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinnerP* 
Which  of  these  went  home  to  his  house  justified  rather  than 
the  other?  And  of  whom  did  Christ  speak  this  parable? 
He  spake  it  (says  St.  Luke)  unto  certain  men  which  trusted 
in  themselves  that  they  were  righteous,  and  despised  others. 
It  is  absolutely  necessary,  in  order  to  prevent  the  young  from 
being  imposed  upon  by  these  lofty  pretensions,  to  protest 
against  them  in  the  plainest  and  most  serious  manner ;  they 
are  so  far  from  being  proofs  of  pure  and  genuine  religion,  that 
they  are  the  almost  infallible  characteristics  of  vulgar  and 
unblushing  fanaticism.  The  most  mistaken  and  impetuous 
enthusiasts  have  all  begun  in  the  same  manner,  have  all  arro- 
gantly and  studiously  depreciated  every  other  mode  of  wor- 
ship, have  all  grasped  at  the  monopoly  of  piety  and  reason.  It 
is  not  the  practice  of  the  Church  of  England  to  do  these 
things  ;  it  is  not  the  habit  of  her  ministers  to  speak  insultingly 
or  to  think  arrogantly  of  those  who  w^orship  the  same  God, 
however  different  be  the  mode  of  that  adoration ;  she  prefers 
her  own  doctrine;  but  she  prefers  it  without  boasting  and 
without  invidious  comparison  ;  she  derives  from  her  antiquity 
calm  and  dignified  satisfaction,  and  from  her  experience,  the 
high  blessings  of  moderation  and  forbearance  ;  but,  when  these 
vain  and  mistaken  zealots  tell  her  that  she  is  superannuated, 
and  decayed,  that  she  is  oppressed  by  the  languor  of  age,  and 
unstrung  by  the  indolence  of  success  ;  that  she  should  rebuild 
her  altars  after  their  model,  and  speak  to  the  God  of  heaven 


ON  METHODISM.  125 

as  they  speak ;  when  this  is  the  part  assumed  by  men  whose 
predominant  notion  of  rehgion  seems  to  be  that  it  is  something 
removed  as  far  from  common  sense  as  possible,  it  is  then 
surely  time  to  ask  these  men  who  made  them  lords  and  teach- 
ers over  us,  and  where  each  of  them  has  found  that  garment 
of  Elijah,  in  which  they  so  fondly  walk  upon  the  earth.  They 
have  so  long  held  this  language  ;  it  has  been  so  long  heard 
in  silence,  that  the  silence  of  inactivity  has  been  mistaken  for 
the  silence  of  guilt :  it  is  time  that  the  young,  upon  whose 
unpractised  minds  they  are  always  at  work,  should  know, 
that  moderation  is  not  wholly  indefensible  ;  and  it  is  time  they 
should  be  taught  to  exact  of  religious  presumption,  proofs  as 
severe  as  its  pretensions  are  high. 

Not  that  it  is  meant  by  these  remarks  to  insinuate  that  the 
church  is  endangered  by  this  denomination  of  Christians  ;  I 
hope  and  beheve  that  its  roots  are  too  deep,  its  structure  too 
admirable,  its  defenders  too  able,  and  its  followers  too  firm, 
to  be  shaken  by  this  or  any  other  species  of  attack;  but  it 
such  dangers  do  exist,  which  1  am  not  able  to  perceive,  that 
danger  is  not  from  principles  well  known  and  previously  re- 
futed; it  is  not  from  men  who  profess  to  reason  about  their 
faith,  and  who  give  you  some  means  of  making  to  them  a 
reply ;  but  it  is  from  that  fanaticism  Avhich  professes  only  to 
feel  and  not  to  reason,  which  is  intangible  and  invisible  to  its 
enemies,  which  it  is  no  more  possible  to  meet  with  the  com- 
mon efforts  of  reason,  than  it  is  to  dispute  with  a  burning 
fever,  or  to  argue  down  a  subtle  contagion. 

There  exists,  too,  in  this  sect,  not  onty  the  arrogance  of 
which  1  am  speaking,  but  that  unchristian  charity  in  the  judg- 
ment of  the  motives  of  others,  which  is  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  such  arrogance ;  they  are  perpetually  in  the  habit 
of  putting  on  the  actions  of  the  rest  of  mankind,  a  construction 
which  depreciates  all  other  religions,  and  exalts  their  own ; 
like  all  small  sects,  living  and  acting  together,  their  proselytes 
inflame  each  other  by  mutual  praise,  into  an  exaggerated 
sense  of  their  own  value  ;  and  giide  imperceptibly  into  a  kind 
of  confused  notion,  that  they  are  a  chosen  and  consecrated 
people,  placed  by  God  in  the  bosom  of  idolatry,  to  purify  and 
to  save  mankind.  It  is  impossible  not  to  perceive  that  such 
are  the  secret  feelings  by  which  these  men  are  influenced, 
and  perceiving  it,  it  is  not  possible  at  the  same  time  to  admit, 
that  they  hold  the  Christian  faith  in  all  that  vigour,  purity, 

11* 


126  ON  METHODISM. 

and  vitality  which  they  would  make  us   ordinary  Christians 
to  believe. 

Another  mischief  which  they  do  to  the  cause  of  rehgion  is, 
>^l  that  by  their  eager  and  overheated  imaginations,  they  bring 
^  discredit  upon  the  sacred  cause,  and  upon  the  name  of 
religion;  they  are  taunted  as  the  priests  of  Baal  were 
taunted ; — "  cry  aloud,  for  he  is  a  God :  either  he  is  talking  or 
pursuing,  or  he  is  in  a  journey,  or,  peradventure  he  sleepeth, 
and  must  be  waked  :  and  they  cried  aloud  and  cut  themselves 
after  their  barbarous  manner,  with  knives  and  lancets,  till  the 
blood  gushed  out  upon  them."  Nothing  can  be  more  mis- 
taken in  fact,  than  to  look  upon  the  frantic  extravagance,  or 
the  undignified  trifling  of  their  teachers  as  innocent.  No- 
thing is  innocent  which  casts  the  faintest  shade  of  error,  or 
of  folly  upon  true  rehgion.  Nothing  is  innocent  which  dis- 
poses the  minds  of  men  to  confound  a  serious  Christian  with 
an  enthusiastic  Christian.  Nothing  is  innocent  which  in- 
duces them  to  dishonour  alike  the  firmness  of  rational  con- 
viction, and  the  vehemence  of  ignorant  passion  ;  nothing 
which,  by  disgusting  correct  judgments,  runs  the  remotest 
risk  of  involving  sober  Christianity  in  the  fate  of  low  fanati- 
cism.— He  who  is  reproached  for  being  in  one  extreme,  com- 
forts himself  that  he  is  not  in  the  other ;  if  he  neglects  the  du- 
ties of  religion,  if  he  is  absorbed  by  the  world,  if  he  violates 
the  clearest  rules  of  right  and  wrong,  he  pleads  that  he  is  no 
hypocrite,  no  fanatic,  that  he  despises  the  senseless,  barbarous 
raving,  which  passes  so  often  under  the  name  of  religion. 
And  this  is  perhaps  the  greatest  evil  of  enthusiasm ;  it  is  not 
that  an  enthusiast  may  not  himself  be  a  better  man,  but  that 
he  makes  others  worse  men ;  for  the  publican  says  in  his  turn, 
thank  God  I  am  not  as  this  Pharisee,  and  then  goes  headlong 
into  every  sin  because  he  will  avoid  extravagance,  hypocrisy 
and  ostentation.  Thus  it  is  that  human  vices  and  errors  are 
perpetually  acting  upon  each  other,  that  we  seize  hold  of 
what  others  do  too  much,  in  order  to  justify  ourselves  in  doing 
too  little,  and  are,  on  the  opposite  side,  provoked  to  do  too 
much,  because  we  observe  others  to  do  nothing  at  all ;  the 
horrors  of  infidehty  produce  the  folHes  of  enthusiasm  ;  and 
the  follies  of  enthusiasm  disgust  men  into  the  horrors  of  in- 
fidelity. 

If  power  and  praise  are  the  objects  you  seek  under  the 
name  of  religion,  or,  if  you  are  mistaken  enough  to  suppose 
that  which  is  good  in  some  degree  is  good  in  every  degree ; 


ON  METHODISM.  127 

that  the  holy  apostle,  Saint  Paul,  when  he  talked  of  a  right- 
eousness over  much,  and  of  a  zeal  without  knowledge,  talked 
of  those  feehngs  which  did  not,  and  which  could  not  exist, 
then  do  as  these  men  do,  make  a  new  god  after  your  own 
heated  mind,  and  carry  the  narrow  spirit  of  a  faction  into  the 
great  business  of  eternity.  But  if  you  really  wish  to  excel 
all  other  Christians  in  your  faith,  and  to  exercise  most  worth- 
ily that  religion  which  hallows  and  guides  the  world,  aim  at 
that  moderation  which,  while  it  is  the  most  difficult  is  the 
most  unhonoured,  the  most  unnoticed  and  the  most  unre- 
warded of  all  human  virtues  ;  do  that  which  a  Christian  ought 
to  do,  without  proclaiming  that  you  do  it ;  do  not  insult  men 
to  imitate  you  by  the  loftiness  of  your  pretensions,  but  allure 
them  to  follow  you  by  the  sweetness  and  beauty  of  your  life. 
When  you  come  to  pray  to  God  before  the  world,  let  a  vene- 
rable and  sacred  decorum  preside  over  every  look,  every 
word  and  every  action ;  beware,  lest  you  cast  upon  the  name 
of  religion  the  shadow  of  blame  or  reproach  ; — give  us  that 
piety  which,  while  it  excites  feeling,  commands  respect ;  and 
then  we  will  bear  you  record,  that  you  have  a  zeal  for  God, 
and  that  your  zeal  is  according  to  knowledge. 
•  Zeal  without  knowledge  is  the  most  dangerous  foundation 
on  which  religious  education  can  be  built  up ;  for,  where  it 
happens  to  be  appHed  to  a  naturally  strong  understanding, 
that  can  detect,  in  after-life,  the  excesses  into  which  it  has 
been  hurried  in  early  youth,  it  too  often  superinduces  a  per- 
fect carelessness  to  all  religion ;  a  revengeful  levity,  which 
seems  to  atone  to  itself  by  indiscriminate  scorn,  for  the  follies 
into  which  it  has  been  betrayed  by  indiscriminate  enthusiasm. 
But  bad  as  this  is,  it  is  not  the  worst  evil  which  is  to  be 
laid  to  the  charge  of  enthusiasm ;  the  total  destruction  of  hu- 
man reason,  the  quenching  of  every  faculty,  the  blotting  out 
of  all  mind,  fatuity,  folly,  idiotism,  are  the  evils  which  it  too 
often  carries  in  its  train.  This  is  the  spectacle  at  which 
they  should  tremble  who  believe  that  religious  feelings  do  not 
require  the  control  of  reason,  and  the  aid  of  sound  instruction  ; 
the  spectacle  of  a  mind  dead  forever  to  all  joy,  without  peace 
or  rest  in  the  day  or  in  the  night,  the  victim  of  incurable, 
hopeless  madness.  These  are  the  proper  warnings  for  those 
who  are  tired  with  the  moderation  of  the  English  Church, 
who  ask  for  something  less  calm,  more  vehement,  and  more 
stimulating  than  they  can  meet  with  here.  At  this  moment, 
a  thousand  human  creatures  are  chained  to  the  earth,  suffer- 


139  ON  METHODISM. 

ing,  in  imagination,  all  the  torments  of  hell,  and  groaning 
under  the  fancied  vengeance  of  an  angry  God.  What  has 
broken  them  down,  and  what  is  the  cause  of  their  great  ruin  ? 
zeal  without  knowledge  ;  the  violence  of  worship  ;  passions 
let  loose  upon  the  most  exalted  of  all  objects ;  utter  contempt 
of  all  moderation ;  hatred  and  suspicion  of  the  moderate  ;  a 
dereliction  of  old,  safe,  and  established  worship  ;  a  thirst  for 
novelty  and  noise ;  a  childish  admiration  of  every  bold  and 
loquacious  pretender ;  Methodism  in  every  branch  of  its  folly, 
and  in  the  fullest  measure  of  its  arrogance. 

Perhaps  this  sect  is  come  too  late  ;  perhaps,  in  spite  of  their 
incessant  activity,  it  is  not  possible  that  mankind  should  again 
fall  very  extensively  under  the  dominion  of  enthusiasm  ;  in 
the  mean  time,  whatever  be  their  ultimate  and  general  suc- 
cess, this  will  be  the  character  of  their  immediate  proselytes  ; 
they  will  have  all  who  are  broken  down  by  the  miseries  of 
the  world,  and  who  will  fly  to  the  drunkenness  of  enthusiasm, 
as  a  cure  for  the  pangs  of  sorrow  ;  they  will  have  all  men, 
in  whose  mind  fear  predominates  over  hope;  profligates,  who 
have  exhausted  the  pleasures  of  life,  will  begin  to  blame 
those  pleasures  enthusiastically,  and  to  atone,  by  the  corrup- 
tion of  their  reason,  for  the  corruption  of  their  hearts.  De- 
signing hypocrites  will  sometimes  join  them,  and  throw  a 
mask  of  sanctity  over  the  sordid  impurities  of  their  lives.  It 
will  be  a  general  receptacle  for  imbecility,  fear,  worn-out 
debauchery,  and  designing  fraud.  It  will  nourish  a  scorn 
for  rehgion,  produce  a  constant  succession  of  scoffers,  and  so 
blend  the  excesses  of  the  human  mind,  upon  religious  sub- 
jects, with  its  sound  and  serious  efforts,  that  men,  not  caring 
to  disentangle  the  evil  from  the  good,  will  cast  both  the  evil 
and  the  good  away,  and  live  in  habitual  carelessness  for  their 
salvation. 

But  it  is  urged,  in  answer  to  this,  that  the  Hves  of  these 
men  are  good.  Admit  them  to  be  so  ;  are  there  no  good  men 
who  are  not  enthusiasts  ?  Are  there  no  men,  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  truth  of  the  Gospel,  who  avoid  all  singularity, 
party  spirit,  and  display,  in  their  obedience  to  that  Gospel  ? 
Is  there  no  such  a  thing  as  earnest,  yet  tranquil  piety  ?  Is  a 
sound  understanding  really  so  incompatible  with  a  pure  heart, 
that  men  must  become  spectacles  and  laughing  stocks  in  this 
world,  before  they  consider  themselves  as  fit  for  another,  and 
a  better  ?     "  I  respect  these  people,"  says  one  of  the  greatest 


ON  METHODISM.  129 

ornaments  of  the  English  Church,  (now  no  more.*)  "  I 
respect  them,  because  I  beheve  they  are  sincere,  but  I  have 
never  been  present  at  their  worship,  without  saying  to  myself, 
how  different  is  this  from  the  primitive  purity  and  simplicity 
of  the  Gospel." 

It  is  possible  to  love  a  thing  so  ardently,  and  to  covet  it  so 
much,  that  we  cease  to  be  good  judges  of  the  means  by 
which  it  is  to  be  attained,  or  preserved  when  it  is  attained. 
We  have  in  our  church,  and  in  theirs,  one  common  object — 
salvation, — the  greatest  that  the  mind  can  conceive,  or  the 
passions  covet.  We  will  not  believe,  that  an  All- wise  and 
an  Almighty  being  has  made  our  eternal  happiness  to  depend 
upon  the  display  of  impetuous  feeling,  or  the  observance  of 
unmeaning  trifles.  We  will  bend  our  whole  heart  to  the 
Lord  our  God,  and  to  the  great  author  of  our  redemption  ; 
but  we  will  do  it  with  calm  adoration,  and  with  zeal  accord- 
ing to  knowledge  ;  those  habits  may  not  impose,  they  may 
not  dazzle,  they  may  not  attract ; — but  they  are  practical, 
they  are  permanent,  they  will  endure  ;  and,  while  a  thousand 
new  sects  are  swelling  into  importance,  from  their  extrava- 
gance, and  dissolving  again,  when  that  extravagance  has  lost 
the  charm  of  novelty,  our  ancient  and  venerable  church,  too 
great,  too  wise,  and  too  aged,  for  these  popular  arts,  shall  stand 
the  test  of  time,  and  gradually  gather  into  her  bosom,  those 
who  can  be  wise  as  well  as  good  ;  who  have  an  ardent  zeal  for 
God,  but  a  zeal  according  to  knowledge, 

*  Dr.  Paley,  whose  works  have  adorned,  and  whose  low  situation  in  the 
Eflglish  Church  has  disgraced  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 


SERMON   XVIII 

ON    RICHES. 


It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich 
man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God. — Mabk  x.  terse  25. 

Without  entering  into  the  disputes  to  which  this  passage 
has  given  hirth,  or  agitating  the  question  of  the  propriety  of 
the  translation,  I  shall  construe  it  in  a  figurative  sense,  and 
suppose  it  to  mean,  that  it  is  difficult  for  a  rich  man  to  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God ;  that  the  temptations,  consequent 
upon  great  possessions,  create  a  very  serious  obstacle  to  the 
attainment  of  the  principles  and  of  the  rewards  of  the  Gospel. 

To  examine  what  those  obstacles  are,  and  to  point  out  in 
what  manner  they  may  be  guarded  against,  will,  I  hope,  not 
prove  an  unprofitable  subject  for  this  day's  discourse  ;  if,  in 
the  progress  of  such  discourse,  I  point  out  any  pernicious 
effects  of  wealth  upon  the  moral  and  rehgious  character,  I 
cannot,  of  course,  mean  to  insinuate  that  such  influence  is 
never  counteracted,  and  such  danger  never  repelled. — I  am 
speaking,  not  of  fact,  but  of  tendency, — not  of  those  efl^ects 
which  always  are  produced,  but  ofHhose  which  in  nature  and 
probability  may  be  produced. 

It  is  difficult  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God : — The  first  cause  to  be  alleged  for  this  difficulty  is,  that 
he  wants  that  important  test  of  his  own  conduct,  which  is  to 
be  gained  from  the  conduct  of  his  fellow-creatures  towards 
him  ;  he  may  be  going  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God,  on  the 
feet  of  pride,  and  over  the  spoils  of  injustice,  without  learning, 
from  the  averted  looks,  and  the  alienated  hearts  of  men,  that 
his  ways  are  the  ways  of  death.  Wealth  is  apt  to  inspire  a 
kind  of  awe,  which  fashions  every  look,  modulates  every 


ON  RICHES*  131 

word,  and  influences  every  action ; — and  this,  not  so  much 
from  any  view  to  interest,  as  from  that  imposing  superiority, 
exercised  upon  the  imagination  hy  prosperous  fortune,  from 
which  it  is  extremely  difficult  for  any  man  to  emancipate 
himself,  who  has  not  steadily  accustomed  his  judgment  to 
measure  his  fellow-creatures  by  real,  rather  than  artificial 
distinctions,  and  to  appeal  from  the  capricious  judgments  of 
the  world  to  his  own  reflections,  and  to  the  clear  and  indis- 
putable precepts  of  the  Gospel. 

The  general  presumption,  indeed,  which  we  are  apt  to 
form,  is,  that  the  mischief  is  already  done,  that  the  rich  man 
has  been  accustomed  to  such  flattering  reception,  such 
gracious  falsehoods,  and  such  ingenious  deceit ;  that  to  treat 
him  justly,  is  to  treat  him  harshly ;  and,  to  defer  to  him  only 
in  the  proportion  of  his  merit,  is  a  violation  of  established 
forms.  No  man  feels  it  to  be  his  duty  to  combat  with  the 
gigantic  errors  of  the  world,  and  to  exalt  himself  into  a 
champion  of  righteousness  ;  he  leaves  the  state  of  society  just 
as  he  found  it,  and  indolently  contributes  his  quota  of  deceit^ 
to  make  the  life  of  a  human  being  an  huge  falsehood  from 
the  cradle  to  the  tomb.  It  is  this  which  speaks  to  Dives  the 
false  history  of  his  shameless  and  pampered  life  ;— here  it 
is,  in  the  deceitful  mirror  of  the  human  face,  that  he  sees 
the  high  gifts  with  which  God  has  endowed  him  ; — and  here 
it  is,  in  that  mirror,  so  dreadfully  just  to  guilty  poverty,  he 
may  come  back,  after  he  has  trampled  on  every  principle  of 
honour  and  justice,  and  see  joy,  and  delight,  and  unbounded 
hospitality,  and  unnumbered  friends.  Therefore,  I  say  to 
you,  when  you  enter  in  among  your  fellows,  in  the  pomp, 
and  plenitude  of  wealth, — when  the  meek  eye  of  poverty 
falls  before  you, — when  all  men  hsten  to  your  speech,  and 
the  approving  smile  is  ready  to  break  forth  on  every  brow,— - 
then  keep  down  your  rising  heart,  and  humble  yourself  before 
your  father  who  seeth  in  secret ;  then  fear  very  greatly  for 
your  salvation  ;  then  tremble  more  than  Felix  trembled  ;  then 
remember  that  it  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  ey« 
of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

The  second  reason  why  it  is  so  difficult  for  a  rich  man  to  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God  is,  that  he  loves  the  kingdom  of  the 
world  too  well.  Death  is  very  terrible,  says  the  son  of  Sirach,  to 
him  who  lives  at  ease  in  his  possessions  ;  and  in  truth  the  plea- 
sure of  Hfe  does,  in  a  great  measure,  depend  upon  the  lot  which 


132  ON  RICHES. 

we  draw,  and  the  heritage  which  we  enjoy ;  it  may  be  urged, 
that  a  person  who  knows  no  other  situation,  wishes  no  other ; 
and  that  the  boundary  of  his  experience  is  the  boundary  of 
his  desire.  This  would  be  true  enough  if  we  did  not  derive 
our  notions  of  happiness  and  misery  from  a  wider  range  of 
observation  than  our  own  destiny  can  afford  ;  I  will  not  speak 
of  great  misfortunes,  for  such  instances  prove  but  too  clearly, 
how  much  the  love  of  life  depends  on  the  enjoyment  it  affords ; 
"-—but  a  man  who  is  the  eternal  prey  of  sohcitude,  wishes 
for  the  closing  of  the  scene ;  a  constant,  cheerless  struggle 
with  little  miseries,  will  dim  the  sun,  and  wither  the  green 
herb,  and  taint  the  fresh  wind ; — he  will  cry  out,  let  me 
depart, — he  will  count  his  gray  hairs  with  joy,  and  one  day 
will  seem  unto  him  as  many.  Those  who  are  not  reminded 
of  the  wretchedness  of  human  existence  by  such  reflections 
as  these,  who  are  born  to  luxury  and  respect,  and  sheltered 
from  the  various  perils  of  poverty,  begin  to  forget  the  preca- 
rious tenure  of  worldly  enjoyments,  and  to  build  sumptuously 
on  the  sand ;  they  put  their  trust  (as  the  Psalmist  says),  in 
chariots  and  horses,  and  dream  they  shall  live  for  ever  in 
those  palaces  which  are  but  the  out-houses  of  the  grave. 
There  are  very  few  men,  in  fact,  who  are  capable  of  with- 
standing the  constant  effect  of  artificial  distinctions ;  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  live  upon  a  throne,  and  to  think  of  a  tomb ;  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  be  clothed  in  splendour,  and  to  remember  we  are  dust ; 
it  is  difficult  for  the  rich  and  the  prosperous  to  keep  their 
hearts  as  a  burning  coal  upon  the  altar,  and  to  humble  them- 
selves before  God  as  they  rise  before  men.  In  the  mean- 
time, while  pride  gathers  in  the  heart,  the  angel  is  ever 
writing  in  the  book,  and  wrath  is  ever  mantling  in  the  cup  ; 
complain  not  in  the  season  of  woe,  that  you  are  parched  with 
thirst ;  ask  not  for  water,  as  Dives  asked  you  have  a  warn- 
ing which  he  never  had.  There  stand  the  ever  memorable 
words  of  the  text,  which  break  down  the  stateliness  of  man, 
and  dissipate  the  pageantry  of  the  earth : — thus  it  is  that  the 
few  words  of  a  God  can  make  the  purple  of  the  world  appear 
less  beautiful  than  the  mean  garments  of  a  beggar,  and  strik- 
ing terror  into  the  hearts  of  rulers  and  of  exarchs,  turn  the  ban- 
ners of  dominion  to  the  ensigns  of  death,  and  make  them 
shudder  at  the  sceptre  which  they  wield.  To-day,  you  are 
clothed  in  fine  hnen,  and  fare  sumptuously ;  in  a  few,  and 
evil  years,  they  shall  hew  you  out  a  tomb  of  marble,  whiter 
than  snow,  and  the  cunning  artifice  of  the  workman  shall 


ON^RICHES.  133 

grave  on  it  weeping  angels,  and  make  a  delicate  image  of 
one  fleeing  up  to  heaven,  as  if  it  were  thee,  and  shall  relate 
in  golden  letters,  the  long  story  of  your  honours  and  your 
birth, — thou  fool ! !  He  that  dieth  by  the  road  side  for  the 
lack  of  a  morsel  of  bread,  God  loveth  him  as  well  as  he  loveth 
thee  ;  and  at  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  from  the  blessed  angels 
thou  shalt  learn,  that  it  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

Another  fatal  effect  of  great  wealth  is,  that  it  is  apt  to  harden 
the  heart ;  wealth  gives  power ;  power  produces  immediate 
gratification;  the  long  habit  of  immediate  gratification,  an 
impatience  of  unpleasant  feelings ;  a  claim  to  be  exempted 
from  the  contemplation  of  human  misery,  of  everything  cal- 
culated to  inspire  gloom,  to  pollute  enjoyment,  and  protrude 
a  sense  of  painful  duties ;  the  compassion  with  which  pros- 
perous men  are  born  in  common  with  us  all,  is  never  cher- 
ished by  a  participation  in  the  common  suffering,  a  share  in 
the  general  struggle ;  it  wants  that  sense  of  the  difficulty  and 
wretchedness  of  existence,  by  which  we  obtain  the  best  mea- 
sure of  the  sufferings  of  our  fellow-creatures.  We  talk  of 
human  life  as  a  journey,  but  how  variously  is  that  journey 
performed  ?  there  are  some  who  come  forth  girt,  and  shod, 
and  mantled,  to  walk  on  velvet  lawns,  and  smooth  terraces, 
where  every  gale  is  arrested,  and  every  beam  is  tempered ; 
there  are  others  who  walk  on  the  alpine  paths  of  life,  against 
driving  misery,  and  through  stormy  sorrows ;  and  over  sharp 
afflictions,  walk  with  bare  feet  and  naked  breast,  jaded,  man- 
gled, and  chilled.  It  is  easy  enough  to  talk  of  misfortunes  ; 
that  they  exist,  no  man  can  be  ignorant ;  it  is  not  the  bare 
knowledge  of  them  that  is  wanting,  but  that  pungent,  vital 
commiseration,  under  the  influence  of  which  a  man  springs 
up  from  the  comforts  of  his  home,  deserts  his  favourite  occu- 
pations, toils,  invents,  investigates,  struggles,  wades  through 
perplexity,  disappointment,  and  disgust,  to  save  a  human 
being  from  shame,  poverty  and  destruction :  here  then  is  the 
jet,  and  object  of  our  blessed  Saviour's  menace ;  and  reason- 
able enough  it  is  that  he  who  practically  withdraws  himself 
from  the  great  Christian  community  of  benevolence,  should 
be  cut  ofl^from  the  blessings  of  Christian  reward.  If  we  suf- 
fer ourselves  to  be  so  infatuated  by  the  enjoyments  of  this 
world,  as  to  forget  the  imperious  claims  of  affliction,  and  to 
render  our  minds,  from  the  long  habit  of  selfish  gratification, 


134  ON  RICHES. 

incapable  of  fulfilling  the  duties  we  owe  to  mankind,  then 
let  us  not  repine,  that  our  lot  ceases  in  this  world,  or  that  the 
rich  man  shall  never  inherit  immortal  life. 

As  to  that  confidence  and  pride  of  which  riches  are  too 
often  the  source,  what  can  the  constitution  of  that  mind  be, 
which  has  formed  these  notions  of  divine  wisdom  and  justice? 
Was  this  inequality  of  possessions  contrived  for  the  more 
solid  establishment  of  human  happiness,  that  there  might  be 
gradation  and  subordination  among  men  ?  or  was  it  instituted 
to  give  an  arbitrary  and  useless  superiority  of  one  human 
being  over  another  ?  Are  any  duties  exacted  for  the  good 
conferred  ?  or  was  a  rich  man  only  born  to  sleep  quietly,  to 
fare  sumptuously,  and  to  be  clothed  in  brave  apparel  ?  Has 
he,  who  does  not  create  a  particle  of  dust  but  it  has  its  use, 
has  he,  do  you  imagine,  formed  one  human  being  merely  as 
a  receptacle  of  choice  fruits  and  delicate  viands ;  and  has  he 
stationed  a  thousand  others  about  him,  of  the  same  flesh  and 
blood,  that  they  might  pick  up  the  crumbs  of  his  table,  and 
gratify  the  wishes  of  his  heart?  No  man  is  mad  enough  to 
acknowledge  such  an  opinion ;  but  many  enjoy  wealth  as  if 
they  had  no  other  notion  respecting  it  than  that  they  were  to 
extract  from  it  the  greatest  enjoyment  possible,  to  eat  and  drink 
to-day,  and  to  mock  at  the  threatened  death  of  to-morrow. 

The  command  of  our  Saviour  to  the  rich  man,  was,  go  thy 
way  quickly,  sell  all  thou  hast,  divide  it  among  the  poor,  and 
take  up  thy  cross  and  follow  me ;  but  this  precept  of  our 
blessed  Lord's,  as  it  was  intended  only  for  the  interests  of 
the  Gospel,  and  the  state  of  the  world  at  that  period,  cannot 
be  considered  as  applicable  to  the  present  condition  of  man- 
kind ;  to  preach  such  exalted  doctrine  in  these  latter  days, 
would,  I  am  afraid,  at  best  be  useless ;  our  object  is  to  seek 
for  some  fair  medium  between  selfishness  and  enthusiasm. 
If  something  of  great  possessions  be  dedicated  to  inspire 
respect,  and  preserve  the  gradations  of  society,  a  part  to  the 
real  wants,  a  little  to  the  ornaments  and  superfluities  of  life, 
a  little  even  to  the  infirmities  of  the  possessor,  how  much 
will  remain  for  the  unhappy,  who  ask  only  a  preference  over 
vicious  pleasure,  disgraceful  excess,  and  idle  ostentation. 

Neither  is  it  to  objects  only  of  individual  misery,  that  the 
application  of  wealth  is  to  be  confined ;  whatever  has  for  its 
object  to  enlarge  human  knowledge,  or  to  propagate  moral 
and  religious  principle ;  whatever  may  afl^ect  immediately, 
or  remotely,  directly,  or  indirectly,  the  public  happiness, 


ON  RICHES.  135 

may  add  to  the  comforts,  repress  the  crimes,  or  animate  the 
virtues  of  social  life ;  to  every  sacred  claim  of  this  nature, 
che  appetite  for  frivolous  pleasure,  and  the  passion  for  frivo- 
lous display,  must  impHcitly  yield :  if  the  minulisB  of  indi- 
vidual charity  present  an  object  too  inconsiderable  for  a  capa- 
cious mind,  there  are  vast  asylums  for  sickness  and  want, 
which  invite  your  aid  ;  breathe  among  their  sad  inhabitants 
the  spirit  of  consolation  and  order,  give  to  them  wiser  ar- 
rangements and.  wider  limits,  prepare  shelter  for  unborn 
wretchedness,  and  medicine  for  future  disease ;  give  oppor- 
tunity to  talents,  and  scope  to  goodness  ;  go  among  the  mul- 
titude, and  see  if  you  can  drag  from  the  oblivious  heap  some 
child  of  God,  some  gift  of  heaven,  whose  mind  can  burst 
through  the  secrets  of  nature,  and  influence  the  destiny  of 
man.  This  is  the  dignified  and  religious  use  of  riches,  which, 
when  they  cherish  boyish  pride,  to  minister  to  selfish  plea- 
sure, shall  verily  doom  their  possessor  to  the  flames  of  hell.— • 
But  he  who  knows  wherefore  God  has  given  him  great  pos- 
sessions, he  shall  die  the  death  of  Lazarus,  without  leading 
his  hfe,  and  rest  in  the  bosom  of  Abraham,  though  he  never 
stretched  forth  his  wounds  to  the  dogs,  nor  gathered  up  the 
crumbs  of  the  table  for  his  food. 

The  best  mode  of  guarding  against  that  indirect  flattery, 
which  is  always  paid  to  wealth,  is  to  impress  the  mind  with 
a  thorough  belief  of  the  fact;  and  to  guard  by  increased  in- 
ward humility  against  the  danger  of  corruption  from  without. 
The  wealthy  man  who  attributes  to  himself  great  or  good 
qualities,  from  what  he  conceives  to  be  the  opinion  of  the 
world,  exposes  himself  to  dangerous  errors;  on  the  most  im- 
portant of  all  subjects,  this  source  of  self-judgment  is  for  him 
most  effectually  poisoned ;  he  must  receive  such  evidence 
with  the  utmost  distrust,  weigh  every  circumstance  with 
caution,  court  animadversion  and  friendly  candour,  and  che- 
rish the  man  by  whose  poHshed  justice  his  feelings  are  con- 
sulted, while  his  follies  are  repressed. 

For  the  pride  which  is  contracted  by  the  contemplation  of 
little  things,  there  is  no  better  cure  than  the  contemplation  of 
great  things.  Let  a  rich  man  turn  from  his  own  pompous  lit- 
tleness, and  think  of  heaven,  of  eternity,  and  of  salvation ;  let 
him  think  of  all  the  nations  that  lie  dead  in  the  dust,  waiting 
for  the  trumpet  of  God ;  he  will  smile  at  his  own  brief  autho- 
rity, and  be  as  one  lifted  up  to  an  high  eminence,  to  whom 
the  gorgeous  palaces  of  the  world  are  the  specks  and  atoms 


136  ON  RICHES. 

of  the  eye ;  the  great  laws  of  nature  pursue  their  eternal 
course,  and  heed  not  the  frail  distinctions  of  this  life ;  the  fever 
spares  not  the  rich  and  the  great;  the  tempest  does  not  pass 
by  them ;  they  are  racked  by  pain,  they  are  weakened  by 
disease,  they  are  broken  by  old  age,  they  are  agonized  in 
death  like  other  men,  they  moulder  in  the  tomb,  they  differ 
only  from  other  men  in  this,  that  God  will  call  them  to  a  more 
severe  account,  that  they  must  come  before  him  with  deeds 
of  Christian  charity  and  acts  of  righteousness,  equal  to  all  the 
opportunities  and  blessings  which  they  have  enjoyed. 

Let  the  rich  man  then  remember  in  the  midst  of  his  en- 
joyments, by  what  slight  tenure  those  enjoyments  are  held. 
In  addition  to  the  common  doubt  which  hangs  over  the 
life  of  all  men,  fresh  perils  lay  hid  in  his  pleasures,  and  the 
very  object  for  which  he  lives  may  be  the  first  to  terminate 
his  existence.  "  Remember  thou  art  mortal,"  was  said  every 
day  to  a  great  king.  So,  after  the  same  fashion  I  would  that 
a  man  of  great  possessions  should  frequently  remember  the 
end  of  all  things,  and  the  long  home,  and  the  sleeping  place 
of  a  span  in  breadth ;  I  would  have  him  go  from  under  the 
gilded  dome  down  to  the  place  where  they  will  gather  him 
to  the  bones  of  his  fathers ;  he  should  tread  in  the  dust  of  the 
noble,  and  trample  on  the  ashes  of  the  proud ;  I  would  heap 
before  him  sights  of  woe  and  images  of  death  and  terror ;  I 
would  break  down  his  stateliness  and  humble  him  before  his 
Redeemer  and  his  judge.  My  voice  should  ever  sound  in 
his  ears,  that  it  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of 
a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 


SERMON    XIX. 
ON    SWEARING. 


Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in  vain,  for  the  Lord 
vsrill  not  hold  him  guiltless  who  taketh  his  name  in  vain. — Exodus  xx. 

VERSE  7.  *;^ 

While  we  are  guarded  against  great  and  daring  crimes, 
by  the  disgust  which  their  enormity  excites,  we  remain  ex- 
posed to  the  lesser  vices,  because  we  consider  them  as  too  un- 
important for  our  care,  and  in  this  manner  they  gain  a  vic- 
tory by  our  negligence,  which  they  never  could  obtain  from 
their  own  power. 

Indeed,  against  the  greater  crimes  Almighty  God  has  placed 
a  powerful  safeguard  in  the  admonitions  of  conscience  which 
they  awaken ;  but  when  we  come  from  crimes  against  feel- 
ing, to  crimes  against  reason,  the  danger  is  greater  because 
the  warning  is  less ;  and  here  we  must  owe  to  the  instruction 
of  others,  and  to  self-examination,  that  innocence  which  we 
derive,  on  other  occasions,  from  the  loud  and  irresistible  cries 
of  nature. 

Thou  shalt  not  take  the  Lord's  name  in  vain.  To  use  the 
Lord's  name  in  vain,  is  to  use  it  on  any  occasion,  except 
when  called  upon  by  the  laws  of  our  country,  to  offer  that 
solemn  pledge  for  the  truth  of  what  we  say.  But  the  misfor- 
tune is,  we  do  not  deem  it  in  vain,  if  the  object  on  which  we 
employ  it  is  of  importance  to  us,  and  to  us  alone.  We  do  not 
think  it  in  vain  to  call  down  God,  armed  with  all  his  terrors, 
upon  any  accident  which  disturbs  the  cheerfulness  of  our 
Jives  ;  we  think  that  obedient  Heaven  is  always  ready  to 
avenge  our  wrongs,  and  that  the  Deity  is  ever  watchful  to 
bless  those  whom  we  bless  and  curse  those  whom  we  curse. 
We  make  use  of  God's  name  to  exasperate  the  violence  of 

12* 


138  ON  SWEARING. 

our  own  foolish  passions,  and  to  sharpen  the  edge  of  those 
trifling  vexations,  which  are  entailed  upon  us  all,  in  our  pas- 
sage through  the  world. 

It  may  not,  perhaps,  be  quite  clear  where  the  great  danger 
of  using  the  name  of  God  upon  common  occasions  can  be  : 
the  danger  (and  a  very  serious  one  it  is)  is  this,  that  we  fa- 
miharize  ourselves  too  much  with  that  awful  name ; — that  the 
humble  reverence,  with  which  it  should  always  be  thought 
of  and  pronounced,  be  exchanged  for  confidence  and  bold- 
ness ; — that,  having  broken  through  the  pales  of  the  altar,  we 
approach  to  the  sanctuary  itself; — that,  having  accustomed 
ourselves  to  talk  of  God  without  fear,  we  break  through  his 
laws  without  hesitation ;  and  end  with  bad  actions  after  we 
have  begun  with  impious  words. 

These  outworks  and  fences  of  religion  are  of  the  most 
sacred  importance ; — no  man  breaks  out  at  once  into  great 
vices  ;  no  man  is  of  a  sudden  notoriously  wicked;  but  he  be- 
gins with  little  faults, — he  abstains  from  public  worship, — he 
loses  gradually  the  awful  remembrance  of  his  Creator, — he 
accustoms  himself  to  call  upon  his  name  on  the  most  trifling 
occasions  ;  and  then  after  such  beginnings,  foolishly  imagines 
he  can  stop  just  where  he  pleases.  He  who  breaks  through  the 
outward  wall  will  soon  come  into  the  inner  dwelling ;  this  law 
is  one  of  the  strong  barriers  of  true  piety  ; — ^beware  how  you 
break  it  down ; — think  much  before  you  pronounce  the  name 
of  God ; — and  you  will  think  much  more  before  you  disobey  his 
word.' — Hallow  that  name  with  an  holy  fear,  and  you  will  not 
trample  on  the  laws  which  that  holy  name  sanctions.  Let 
all  your  words  be  yea  and  nay ;  and  that  will  be  some  secu- 
rity that  your  actions  are  pure  and  irreproachable  as  your  lan- 
guage. 

The  only  excuse  which  worldly-minded  men  can  set  up 
for  sin  is  pleasure ;  the  present  temptation  is  too  strong ;  the 
sense  of  future  evil  too  faint  and  too  remote ;  but  who  will 
assert,  that  there  is  any  pleasure  in  an  oath  ? — Or  that  in  the 
whole  extent  of  language,  the  only  words  capable  of  commu- 
nicating satisfaction,  are  those  which  are  not  only  coarse  and 
vulgar,  but  shocking  :  not  only  shocking,  but  irrehgious,  blas- 
phemous, and  bad.  To  take  the  Lord's  name  in  vain,  is  to 
incur  guilt  without  delight ;  and  to  violate  a  solemn  command- 
ment of  God,  merely  that  every  one  who  hears  us  may  con- 
ceive a  low  opinion  of  our  manners,  our  education,  and  our 
understanding. 


ON  SWEARING.  130 

It  is  with  small  vices  as  with  trifling  complaints  of  the 
body;  they  become  dangerous,  only  because  they  are  ne- 
glected. From  the  age  of  innocence,  when  we  look  at  the 
extremes  of  human  depravity,  the  distance  appears  immense  ; 
we  say,  there  is  a  great  gulf  between  us ; — my  soul  can 
never  be  darkened  with  such  crimes  as  these;  I  shall  go 
down  to  my  grave  in  innocence  and  peace. — In  the  mean 
time,  the  descent  from  one  step  to  another  is  short,  and  gentle, 
and  we  arrive  at  the  distant  goal,  betrayed  by  the  artful 
transition.  We  should  take  up  the  task  of  amendment, 
where  it  is  most  Hkely  to  be  attended  with  success  ;  to 
struggle  with  great  vices  is  always  difficult,  sometimes,  I  am 
afraid,  hopeless  ;  in  checking  the  vice  of  swearing,  we  are 
destroying  the  seeds  of  unrighteousness,  and  cherishing  that 
feeling  of  sanctity  which  is  the  parent  of  every  good ;  here- 
after, when  our  religious  feelings  are  blunted  and  worn  away, 
when  our  minds  are  prepared  for  the  reception  of  every  vice, 
we  shall  find  it  too  late  to  keep  holy  the  name  of  the  Lord  our 
God  ; — too  late  to  remember,  that  they  are  not  guiltless  who 
take  his  name  in  vain. 

Whatever  rules  any  man  may  choose  to  apply  to  himself, 
he  will  not  deny,  that  it  is  his  duty  to  watch,  with  the  most 
pious  care,  the  first  appearances  of  this  dangerous  vice  in  the 
minds  of  children ;  that  a  young  person  at  least,  should  be 
taught  never  to  pronounce  the  name  of  God,  but  with  feelings 
of  pious  gratitude,  and  unbounded  veneration;  never,  without 
remembering  that  God  breathed  into  him  the  breath  of  life  ; 
that,  at  his  will,  that  breath  still  hangs  in  his  nostrils ;  that 
in  a  moment,  his  soul  may  be  taken  from  him  ;  and  that  he 
may  be  called  before  the  throne  of  that  being,  whose  power 
nothing  can  resist ;  and  from  whose  wisdom  nothing  remains 
concealed.  The  youth  who  has  these  feelings,  is  safe  from 
all  flagrant  and  enormous  crimes  ;  in  the  moment  of  tempta- 
tion, he  flies  to  them  as  to  the  horns  of  the  altar ;  and,  in  the 
day  of  his  adversity,  they  are  his  stony  rock,  his  buckler, 
and  his  shield. 

It  is  very  striking,  in  our  perusal  of  the  Scriptures,  to 
remark  the  awful  manner  in  which  the  name  of  God  is  men- 
tioned ;  and  the  noble  images  and  allusions  with  which  it 
is  surrounded  and  hallowed :  Moses  says,  that  it  is  eternal, 
everlasting,  not  to  be  changed.  Solomon  calls  it  the  frontlet 
to  his  eyes;  Isaiah  says  it  is  the  tower  of  his  heart. — Zecha- 
riah  calls  it  a  wall  of  fire. — Joel,  and  Amos,  and  Haggai,  say 


140  ON  SWEARING. 

it  is  a  miracle,  and  a  glory,  and  a  burning  light.  Prophets, 
lawgivers,  and  sacred  kings  bless  it;  the  worst  only,  and  the 
lowest  of  men,  revile  it,  and  trample  it  in  the  dust.  This  is 
the  way  that  common  minds  speak  of  the  first  and  great 
cause  of  all ;  but  David  says,  that  when  he  called  upon  God, 
the  earth  shook,  and  trembled  ;  that  the  very  foundations  of 
the  hills  were  shaken.  "  He  bowed  the  Heavens,  and  came 
down  ;  darkness  was  under  his  feet ;  he  rode  upon  a  cheru- 
bin  ; — he  did  fly  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind  ;  he  made  dark- 
ness his  secret  place  ;  his  pavilion  round  about  him  was  dark 
waters,  and  thick  clouds  of  the  skies.  The  Lord  also  thun- 
dered in  the  Heavens,  and  the  highest  gave  his  voice.  Then 
the  channels  of  waters  were  seen,  and  the  foundations  of  the 
world  were  discovered.  At  thy  rebuke,  oh  God  ;  at  the  blast 
of  the  breath  of  thy  nostrils." — This  is  not  mere  imagination, 
but  wise  and  instructive  piety  ;  the  loftiest  flight,  and  the 
boldest  epithet  have  their  use ;  whatever  exalts  the  Deity, 
enforces  obedience  to  his  laws ;  whatever  degrades  his  name, 
renders  it  more  probable,  that  his  commandments  will  not  be 
observed. 

It  is  a  vast  advantage  to  keep  in  the  heart  a  pure  image  to 
look  at, — something  which  is  free  from  every  stain  of  mortal 
frailty  ;  and  Avhich  we  may  follow,  though  at  a  distance  im- 
measurable, and  imitate,  though  in  dimness  and  obscurity ; 
for  this  reason,  the  thought  of  God  is  to  be  fenced  about  with 
every  care  ;  it  is  not  to  be  called  forth  for  the  purposes  of 
any  evil  passion,  or  to  gratify  rash  intemperance,  or  to  give 
dignity  to  insignificance.  It  is  to  be  reserved  for  stupendous 
affliction,  poured  forth  in  eminent  distress,  appealed  to  before 
grave  tribunals,  and  pronounced  with  solemn  devotion,  when 
the  dearest  interests  of  mankind  are  at  stake.  God  has  given 
us  his  name  as  a  support  to  human  laws,  as  a  security  to 
human  happiness ;  it  is  so  great  and  serious  a  possession, 
the  use  of  it  is  of  such  vast  importance,  that  the  law  takes  it 
to  itself,  and  pronounces  it  to  be  an  offence  against  the  public 
to  use  it,  but  in  prayer.  And  the  law  does  this  very  justly, 
reasoning  after  this  manner  ;  that  by  the  use  of  God's  name 
contracts  are  ratified ;  by  that  pledge,  men  bind  themselves 
to  the  performance  of  high  duties ;  recompense  is  awarded  ; 
and  crimes  are  punished.  From  a  confidence  that  the  name 
of  God  will  not  be  taken  in  vain ;  so  to  take  it,  is  to  weaken 
one  of  the  props  on  which  human  happiness  is  placed ;  is  to 
accustom  yourself  and  others  to  the  irreverent  use  of  that 


ON  SWEARING.  141 

name,  upon  the  reverent  use  of  which  the  administration  of 
justice  intimately  depends.  It  is  in  this  very  manner  that 
our  Saviour  preaches  it,  not  only  forbidding  perjury,  but  for- 
bidding that  habit  of  appealing  carelessly  to  sacred  things, 
which  lays  the  foundation  for  a  breach  of  oaths.  "  Ye  have 
heard  how  it  hath  been  said  by  them  of  old  time,  thou  shalt 
not  forswear  thyself;' — but  I  say  unto  you,  swear  not  at  all, 
neither  by  Heaven,  for  it  is  God's  throne,  nor  by  the  earth, 
for  it  is  his  footstool,  nor  by  Jerusalem,  for  it  is  the  city  of 
the  great  king ;  but  let  your  communication  be  yea,  and  nay, 
for  whatsoever  is  more  than  these,  cometh  of  evil." 

It  is  pleasant  to  remember,  that  no  man  can  cultivate  any 
one  virtue,  without  cultivating  others  at  the  same  time ;  now, 
to  watch  carefully  over  the  use  we  make  of  the  name  of 
God,  and  to  beware  that  we  do  not  misuse  it,  even  in  the 
strongest  paroxysm  of  violence,  induces  a  turn  of  mind,  which 
is  extremely  favourable  to  the  government  of  our  evil  nature  ; 
for  it  is  not  probable  that  he,  who  is  striving  not  to  offend 
against  one  commandment  of  God,  should  at  that  very  mo- 
ment offend  against  another ;  the  same  awful  feeling  which 
prevents  him  from  blaspheming  against  the  name  of  God,  may 
curb  anger,  soften  hatred,  and  produce  a  general  spirit  of 
pious  moderation.  To  conclude  ;  which  of  all  those  crimes 
prescribed  in  the  decalogue  is  the  greatest,  we  know  not ; 
as  they  are  all  equally  forbidden,  they  are,  probably,  all 
equally  heinous  : — there  cannot,  therefore,  be  a  doubt,  which, 
in  a  religious  point  of  view,  it  is  the  greatest  folly  to  commit ; 
for,  to  the  violation  of  the  name  of  God,  there  is  no  natural 
impulse,  nor  is  any  great  enjoyment  the  consequence  of  it ; 
for  though  it  may  be  difficult  sometimes  not  to  do  it,  there  is 
no  sort  of  pleasure  in  doing  it,  nor  is  it  a  vice  by  which 
anything  is  gained,  but  the  disreputation  and  disgrace.  In 
the  meantime,  it  is  as  dangerous  in  its  consequences  as  if 
it  were  agreeable  in  itself;  it  weakens  the  obligation  of  oaths, 
destroys  the  delicacy  of  religious  feeling,  and  makes  all  those 
thoughts  common,  which  should  be  reserved  for  the  great 
changes  and  chances  of  life.  He,  therefore,  who  blasphemes 
out  of  these  walls,  will  pray  within  them  to  little  purpose ; 
and,  whatever  be  the  effusions  of  his  heart,  when  the  world 
are  not  by,  his  open  profanations  will  not  be  forgotten,  nor. 
will  God  hold  him  guiltless  that  taketh  his  name  in  vain. 


.1^  '  >?^i 


SERMON    XX 

ON  MEEKNESS. 


The  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  a  great 
price. — First  Epistle  of  Peter  hi.  verse  4. 

The  meekness  of  the  Gospel  has  been  so  far  mistaken  by 
one  sect  of  Christians,  that  they  have  erroneously  interpreted 
it  to  mean  passive  submission  to  violence  and  injury;  a 
principle  which  operates  as  an  incitement  to  many  bad  pas- 
sions, by  leaving  to  them  their  undisputed  reward,  and  urges 
us  to  abandon  those  salutary  means  of  defence,  implanted  by 
nature  for  the  encouragement  of  justice,  and  the  due  order  of 
the  world. 

That  all  men  should  cease  to  resist,  would  be  of  very  Httle 
importance  unless  all  men  were  to  cease  to  attack ;  for,  other- 
wise, such  a  system  would  be  merely  the  extinction  of  all 
rights,  and  the  quiet  toleration  of  every  wrong.  On  the  con- 
trary, if  the  object  be  to  diminish,  as  much  as  possible,  the 
quantity  of  evil  in  the  universe,  and  if  its  sudden  destruction 
be  impossible,  it  is  much  better  to  render  vice  and  violence 
unsuccessful  in  their  object,  by  that  calm  yet  vigilant  resist- 
ance which  is  more  desirous  of  preventing  future  than  re- 
venging past  aggression. 

As  I  cannot,  for  these  reasons  believe,  that  the  meekness  of 
the  Gospel  is  pusillanimity,  I  cannot  allow  it  any  more  to  be 
error;  it  cannot  consist  in  an  undue  depreciation  of  ourselves, 
or  an  ignorance  of  any  one  superiority  we  may  chance  to 
possess  over  our  fellow-creatures  ;  the  Gospel  never  teaches 
ignorance;  it  stimulates  man  to  the  study  of  himself  as  the 
best  of  all  wisdom  ;  it  permits  him  to  discover  the  rank  which 
God  has  assigned  to  him;  but  threatens  him  with  omnipotent 
anger,  if  he  turns  the  gifts  of  the  Creator  to  the  scorn  and 


ON  MEEKNESS.  143 

oppression  of  the  creature,  and  when  he  feels  the  pride  of 
talents  or  of  power ;  the  Scriptures  unveil  to  him  the  glory  of 
God,  and  tell  him  of  the  days  of  the  life  of  man,  that  they 
are  few  and  evil ;  and  that  when  the  breath  of  his  nostrils  is 
gone,  he  returneth  again  to  his  dust. 

Christian  meekness  is  neither  ignorance  nor  pusillanimity  ; 
but  the  meekness  of  the  Gospel,  so  far  as  it  is  concerned  in 
the  vindication  of  its  own  rights,  vindicates  them  only  when 
they  are  of  considerable  importance.  Nothing  more  distant 
from  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit  than  the  inces- 
sant and  scrupulous  vindication  of  minute  rights,  and  an 
avidity  for  litigation  and  contest ;  a  meek  man  will  cede  much, 
and  before  he  vindicates  a  right,  or  resents  an  injury,  will 
consider  if  that  for  which  he  contends  is  worth  the  price  of 
peace,  not  only  if  it  be  an  object  for  which  justice  will  permit 
him  to  struggle,  but  one  which  prudence  forbids  him  to  re- 
linquish ;  he  will  pass  over  many  trifling  wrongs,  forgive 
slight  injuries  as  the  natural  and  inevitable  consequences  of 
the  imperfect  morality  of  man;  he  will  subdue  malice  by 
openness  and  benignity  ;  turn  away  wrath  by  soft  answers  ; 
disarm  hostility  by  patience  ;  and  endure  much  for  the  Gospel, 
that  he  may  gain  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit, 
which,  in  the  sight  of  God,  is  of  a  great  price. 

Evangelical  meekness  is  never  more  exemplified  than  in 
the  proper  management  of  superior  talents,  so  as  to  make 
them  rather  a  source  of  pleasure  and  encouragement  than  of 
apprehension  to  those  with  whom  we  live.  The  same  ob- 
servation applies  equally  to  superior  rank,  superior  birth,  and 
every  species  of  artificial  as  well  as  natural  distinction  ;  meek- 
ness softens  down  the  distance  between  man  and  man,  sweet- 
ens the  malevolent  passions  which  it  is  apt  to  excite,  and  is 
so  far  from  diminishing  subordination,  that  it  strengthens  it 
by  converting  a  duty  into  a  pleasure.  For  mankind  are  at 
the  bottom,  perhaps  well  aware  that  they  must  be  governed, 
and  the  obedience  of  men  may  be  raised  into  a  species  of  idola- 
try, when  those  who  could  command  them  court  them ;  and 
when  they  find  the  garb  of  power  laid  aside  on  purpose  to 
give  pleasure,  and  diffuse  the  cheerfulness  and  confidence  of 
equality.  The  true  meekness  of  the  Gospel,  therefore,  is 
powerfully  evinced  in  the  suppression  of  any  superiority  that 
may  be  painful  and  oppressive,  by  informing  rather  than  ex- 
posing the  ignorant ;  by  raising  up  the  humble  and  judiciously 
bringing  forward  to  notice  those  whose  merits  are  obscured 


144  ON  MEEKNESS. 

by  their  apprehensions;  Christianity  is  not  confined  to 
churches  and  to  hospitals ;  to  houses  of  mourning  or  of  prayer; 
but  it  penetrates  every  situation,  and  it  decorates  every  rela- 
tion of  life  ;  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  a  quiet  spirit  may  be 
worn  amidst  worldly  joys  without  diminishing  them.  We 
may  be  near  to  God,  when  we  seem  the  most  distant  from 
him,  and  offer  up  a  sacrifice  of  meekness  that  shall  be  as 
pleasant  as  a  prayer  in  the  temple. 

It  is  not  only  unchristian,  but  it  is  unworthy  and  little  to 
thrust  forward  every  pretension  to  notice ; — to  blazen  our- 
selves over  with  the  arms  and  insignia  of  our  merits,  and  to 
be  perpetually  occupied  with  putting  the  rest  of  the  world  in 
mind  of  their  inferiority ; — greatness  is,  then,  infinitely  at- 
tractive, when  it  seems  unconscious  of  itself;  when  it  is  de- 
tected by  others ;  not  when  it  publishes  and  praises  its  own 
importance ; — when  it  is  called  forth  by  the  chances  of  the 
world  to  eminence  and  light ;  and  is  unconscious  of  the  wonder 
amid  the  praises  and  acclamations  of  mankind. 

A  meek  man  does  not  exact  minute  and  constant  attentions 
from  his  fellow-creatures  ;  he  is  not  apt  to  form  an  exaggerated 
estimate  of  the  duties  which  are  owing  to  him  ; — he  is  grate- 
ful for  little  services,  and  affectionate  for  any  slight  mark  of 
notice  and  respect ; — he  attributes  every  act  of  benevolence, 
not  to  his  own  merits,  but  to  yours  ; — he  is  thankful  for  what 
has  been  conferred,  without  being  incensed  that  more  has 
been  withheld.  To  give  to  the  meek  is  to  lend  to  that 
Saviour  whom  they  imitate ;  is  to  confer  favours  upon  a  man 
who  is  ever  ready  to  repay  them  seven  fold,  because  his  me- 
mory of  them  is  tenacious  and  his  gratitude  lively  :  his  spirit 
burns  with  a  consuming  fire,  till  he  can  make  the  soul  of  his 
benefactor  leap  with  joy. 

On  the  contrary,  the  most  obliging  disposition  cannot  keep 
pace  with  the  pretensions  of  a  proud  man.  The  most  ar- 
duous efforts  to  promote  his  interests,  he  considers  as  so  many 
duties  owing  to  his  merits  ;  no  sacrifice  is  too  humble,  no  con- 
cession too  flattering,  no  negligence  venial,  no  momentary 
remission  of  benevolent  exertion  to  be  endured ; — whatever 
you  confer  you  lose,  for  whatever  you  are  deficient  you  suffer ; 
it  is  a  service  abundant  in  punishment,  and  utterly  barren  of 
reward. 

If  a  meek  man  hides  his  own  superiority,  he  is  ever  ready 
to  do  justice  to  the  pretensions  of  others ;  the  weak,  the  ab- 
sent and  the  defenceless  feel  safe  in  his  judgments  ;  they  are 


ON  MEEKNESS.  14S 

sure  not  to  be  tortured  by  asperity  of  speech,  malignantly 
calumniated  or  sacrificed  to  unprincipled  ridicule; — their 
virtues  and  excellent  qualities  he  is  ever  ready  to  acknow- 
ledge, because  he  has  no  motive  to  suppress  them, — his  jus- 
tice gives  us  ease,  his  innocence  security, — we  repose  on 
such  a  Christian  character, — it  is  the  shadow  of  a  large  rock 
in  a  weary  land ;  we  cast  ourselves  under  it  for  refreshment, 
and  peace,  weary  with  the  dust,  and  the  heat,  and  the  panting 
Of  life. 

As  man  advances  in  civilization,  the  feelings  of  his  mind 
become  so  vulnerable  and  acute,  that  severity  of  invective, 
the  mere  power  of  inculpative  words  becomes  more  intolera- 
ble than  bodily  pain,  or  any  evil  that  fortune  can  impose. 
The  intemperate  expressions  of  anger  i"nflict  wounds  which 
are  never  healed  for  a  life,  and  lay  the  foundation  of  animo- 
sities which  no  subsequent  conciliation  can  ever  appease. 
The  tongue  of  a  meek  Christian  is  held  with  a  bridle  ; — his 
words  are  yea  and  nay,  righteous,  temperate,  beautiful  and 
calm; — remonstrance  without  bitterness, — firmness  without 
passion, — pardon  without  reproach; — he  has  not  to  lament 
that  disgraceful  and  unchristian  violence  of  speech  which 
often  excites  as  much  remorse  in  those  who  indulge  it,  as  in- 
dignation in  those  against  whom  it  is  directed,  a  virulence 
often  used  with  as  much  freedom  as  if  men  were  proper  and 
candid  judges  of  their  own  injuries,  and  with  as  much  force 
as  if  every  slight  injury  against  ourselves  canceled  all  the 
rights  of  humanity  towards  its  author,  and  marked  him  out  as 
the  fit  victim  of  impure  and  unbridled  invective. 

The  meek  disciple  of  him  who  was  the  meekest  of  all,  is 
strongly  impressed  with  the  vanity  andunworthiness  of  every- 
thing human;  in  whatever  station  he  may  place  himself, 
relative  to  his  fellow-creatures,  he  cannot  deduce  materials 
for  pride,  for  he  deems  that  the  highest  are  low,  and  the 
strongest  frail,  and  the  earth  an  idle  dream ;  while  vulgar 
pride  attaches  the  highest  degree  of  importance  to  every- 
thing, however  distantly  and  minutely  related  to  itself; 
meekness,  in  viewing  itself,  and  the  earth  upon  which  it  is 
placed,  trembles  at  the  attributes,  and  the  works  of  God,  and 
wonders  that  it  should  be  remembered  amidst  the  labyrinth 
of  moving  worlds. 

It  subdues  high-mindedness  by  reflecting  on  the  ignorance 
with  which  human  schemes  are  planned,— the  casualties  by 
which  they  are  interrupted,  the  unexpected  consequences  by 
13 


146  ON  MEEKNESS. 

which  they  are  followed, — and  the  shortness  of  life  by  which 
they  are  frustrated,  dissipated,  and  mocked.  This  view  of 
the  insignificance  of  life,  intended  for  the  cure  of  pride,  may, 
by  abuse  and  misapplication,  encourage  levity  and  inactiv- 
ity ;  we  are  not  to  be  careless  in  the  government  of  our- 
selves, and  in  the  adjustment  of  our  conduct,  because  this 
world,  contrasted  with  the  sum  of  things,  is  insignificant ;  and 
to  pass  through  life  in  boisterous  merriment,  or  supine  indif- 
ference, because  life  is  short ; — this  world,  so  insignificant,  is 
the  world  in  which  we  are  destined  to  act,  this  life  so  short, 
is  all  that  is  granted  us  for  probation ;  its  narrow  Hmits,  its 
feeble  powers,  and  its  sad  vicissitudes,  cannot  justify  sloth  or 
despair,  though  they  ought  to  subdue  pride,  and  to  promote 
that  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  which  is  so  con- 
genial to  the  Gospel,  and  so  well  adapted  to  the  condition  of 
man. 

The  absence  of  this  meekness  produces  a  false  estimation 
of  life,  and  gives  birth  to  many  follies  and  some  vices ;  a 
proud  man  is,  in  his  own  eyes,  the  best  and  greatest  work  of 
God  ;  the  most  trivial  circumstance  which  relates  to  himself, 
is  of  more  importance  than  the  happiness  or  misery  of  a 
province ;  as  often  as  he  condescends  to  mention  them, 
he  exacts  the  most  lively  and  watchful  sympathy  to  the 
minutest  of  his  pleasures  and  his  pains  :  as  he  is  every- 
thing to  himself,  he  expects  he  should  be  everything  to  you ; 
he  not  only  confines  his  thoughts  to  this  world,  but  to  that 
particular  atom  of  it  which  he  is  ;  whether  this  atom  be  hot, 
or  cold,  or  moist,  or  dry,  or  joyful,  or  sad ;  these  are  the 
principles  which,  in  his  estimation,  should  diffuse  joy  or 
sadness  over  the  creation,  and  regulate  the  sum  of  things. 

Placability  is  a  common  attribute  of  the  character  described 
in  my  text :  whoever  thinks  humbly  of  himself,  will  not  be 
prone  to  conceive  the  injuries  he  experiences,  as  too  atro- 
cious for  pardon,  too  enormous  to  be  washed  away  with  tears, 
or  atoned  for  by  contrition ;  perhaps  he  who  has  suflfered  the 
injury,  has  in  some  measure  caused  it ;  perhaps,  under  similar 
circumstances,  he  might  have  inflicted  it ;  he  has  done  as 
much  before  to  others ;  he  may  do  as  much  again  ;  his  trans- 
gressions against  God  are  innumerable ;  he  is  placed,  for  a 
few  years,  among  frail  beings,  of  a  mixed  and  fluctuating 
nature,  himself  as  frail  as  they  ;  why  judge  as  he  would  fear 
to  be  judged  ?  why  make  a  life  of  suffering  a  life  of  wrath  ? 
why  exhibit   the   spectacle   of  remorseless   insignificance  ? 


ON  MEEKNESS.  147 

these  are  the  considerations  which  dispose  a  quiet  and  humble 
mind  to  the  forgiveness  of  injuries,  and  increasing  benevolence 
in  the  world,  promote  the  mild  and  merciful  purposes  of  the 
Gospel. 

The  last  characteristic  of  meekness,  which  I  shall  specify, 
is  long  suffering, — patience  for  the  weaknesses  and  trans- 
gressions of  others  as  far  as  wisdom  will  permit ;  something 
opposed  to  irascibihty  and  quickness  of  resentment.  And 
this  is  not  mere  facility  of  temper  which  prefers  any  endur- 
ance, however  great,  to  any  opposition  however  slight ;  but 
a  conviction  that  forbearance  often  does  more  than  violence ; 
that  men  are  never  more  grateful  than  when  they  come 
afterwards  to  discover  that  their  errors  and  offences  have 
been  borne  with  affectionate  patience,  from  the  hope  of  future 
amendment.  It  is  from  meekness  alone,  that  the  most  com- 
plete and  lasting  penitence  is  produced ;  that  which  proceeds 
not  from  the  reproaches  and  the  punishments  of  others,  but 
from  the  reproaches  which  he  who  has  offended  makes  to 
himself;  that  which  a  bad  son  feels  at  the  speechless  grief  of 
his  mother ;  or  an  ungrateful  friend  at  the  silent  melancholy 
of  his  benefactor ;  or  a  false  disciple  at  the  sight  of  his  mas- 
ter.— Thus  the  fugitive  apostle,  whom  anger  might  have 
hardened,  was  subdued  by  the  meekness  of  Christ, — "  and 
Jesus  looked  upon  him,  and  straightway  Peter  went  out,  and 
wept  bitterly." 

Having  thus  expressed  some  clear  and  definite  notions  of 
what  meekness  is,  it  shall  be  my  care,  on  some  future  occa- 
sion, to  point  out  the  pleasures  which  result  from  this  orna- 
ment of  a  meek  and  a  quiet  spirit,  and  the  expedients  which 
suggest  themselves  for  the  subjugation  of  those  passions  which 
are  unfriendly  to  its  attainment ;  for  it  is  ever  our  duty  to 
promote  the  fruit  of  the  spirit,  which  are  joy,  and  peace,  and 
rest ;  it  has  pleased  God  to  try  us  here,  with  divers  diseases, 
and  sundry  kinds  of  death  ;  these  we  cannot  strive  with,  and 
when  God  calls  them  away,  we  must  part  with  children,  and 
we  must  often  bear  miserable  wants  and  sorrows  ;  but  these 
are  enough  ;  let  us  not  pour  fresh  bitterness  into  the  bitter 
cup  of  life  : — A  little  while  and  we  shall  be  gone  hence  and 
be  no  more  seen;  till  then,  peace,  forgiveness  of  injuries  and 
tenderness  to  the  infirmities  of  man.  We  may  thus  catch  a 
few  moments  from  the  inclemency  of  fate,  and  open  in  our 
hearts  those  springs  of  love  and  mercy  which  will  flow  on 
till  they  are  swallowed  up  by  the  grave. 


v^nm^^ 


SEEM  ON    XXI. 

ON    THE    MODE    OF    PASSING    THE 
SABBATH. 


And  it  came  to  pass  that  he  went  through  the  corn  fields  on  the  Sabbath 
day,  and  his  disciples  began  to  pluck  the  ears  of  corn.  And  the  Pharisees 
said  unto  him,  behold,  why  do  they,  on  the  Sabbath  day,  that  which  is 
not  lawful  ;  and  he  said  unto  them,  the  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  not 
man  for  the  Sabbath. — Mark  ii.  verses  23,  24,  27. 

As  the  Sabbath  day  is  of  divine  institution,  we  are  bound 
to  keep  it  holy ;  and  we  should  have  been  equally  bound  to 
have  done  so,  if  we  were  unable  to  discover  the  reasons  for 
which  its  sanctification  was  ordained  ;  but  the  reasons  for  the 
law,  and  its  utility,  are  so  far  from  doubtful,  that  it  probably 
would  have  originated  with  man,  if  it  had  not  been  commanded 
by  his  Creator  ;  and  the  weary  nations  would  have  found  a 
Sabbath  for  their  toils,  unhallowed  by  the  structure  of  the 
globe,  and  by  the  rest  of  God. 

The  great  importance  of  the  Sabbath,  not  only  for  the  pro- 
motion of  righteousness,  but  even  for  our  mere  temporal 
welfare,  is  too  generally  admitted  to  need  much  discussion. 
If  the  duties  of  religion  were  left  to  be  performed  by  every 
one,  at  the  time,  and  after  the  manner  they  thought  best, 
there  would  be  a  considerable  risk  that  they  were  not  per- 
formed at  all.  The  public,  and  periodical  exercise  of  worship, 
is  the  best  security  for  sound  doctrine  ;  the  teachers  of  religion 
teach  openly  to  the  world,  and  artifice,  fanaticism,  and  cre- 
dulity, which  begin  always  in  obscurity,  are  subjected  to  the 
wholesome  restraint  of  public  opinion.  We  are  so  absorbed, 
also,  in  the  business,  the  pleasure,  and  the  vanities,  of  this 
world,  that  the  recollection  of  any  other,  would,  but  for  the 
institution  of  the  Sabbath,  be  very  soon  obliterated.     It  is 


ON  THE  MODE  of' PASSING  THE  SABBATH.  149 

absolutely  necessary  that  the  chain  of  our  ideas  should  be 
broken,  and  a  new  system  of  reflections  introduced  ;  the 
cessation  of  business  and  amusement,  the  quiet  of  the  Sab- 
bath, the  unusual  appearance  of  objects,  the  solemnity  of 
manner  and  deportment,  observable  on  this  day,  have  all 
some  little  tendency  to  rouse  the  most  thoughtless,  to  awe  the 
most  profligate  into  a  sense  of  duty,  and  to  inspire  feelings 
of  contrition  and  remorse.  The  remembrance  of  youthful 
feelings  has  ever  a  strong  influence  on  the  minds  of  men  ; 
those  who  have  been  brought  up,  when  young,  in  a  pious 
observance  of  the  Sabbath,  to  whom  religious  instruction  has 
been  rendered  pleasant  by  sweetness  of  manner  and  dexterity 
of  management,  can  never  meet  the  Sabbath  without  experi- 
encing, in  some  small  degree,  the  same  interesting  feelings  ; 
and  when  they  have  tried  in  vain  the  pleasures  of  sin,  and 
found  (as  I  firmly  believe  every  man  must  find,)  that  happi- 
ness is  derived  only  from  that  righteousness  which  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  prescribes,  they  will  return  to  the  Sabbath,  and 
seek  from  the  calm  sanctity  of  that  day,  the  pure  enjoyments 
of  their  youth. 

The  importance  of  the  Sabbath  admitted,  the  first  question 
arising  from  the  subject  concerns  the  best  method  of  passing 
it.  The  rule  our  Saviour  has  given  us  is  one  of  the  greatest 
importance  ;  the  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  not  man  for  the 
Sabbath ;  that  is,  man  was  not  created  for  the  mere  purpose 
of  complying  with  certain  ceremonies,  and  obeying  certain 
prohibitions  ;  but  these  ceremonies  were  instituted,  and  these 
prohibitions  enacted  to  produce  an  effect  upon  man,  to  mor- 
tify in  him  all  sinfulness  of  the  flesh,  to  cherish  in  him  the 
spirit  of  righteousness,  and  to  meliorate  his  fallen  nature. 
The  Sabbath,  in  fact,  was  made  for  man,  not  man  for  the 
Sabbath.  Taking  the  text  in  this  sense,  I  shall  proceed  to 
observe  upon  the  method  of  passing  the  Sabbath. 

The  common  excuse  in  the  minds  of  those  who  are  so 
unhappily  frivolous  that  they  cannot  abstain  from  unbecom- 
ing amusements,  even  on  the  Sabbath,  is,  that  if  they  were 
not  doing  what  they  do  do,  they  should  be  doing  something  . 
worse.  But  this  style  of  reasoning,  if  it  can  possibly  justify 
any  fault,  must  justify  all  except  the  greatest :  things  are 
either  good  or  bad  in  themselves  ;  a  bad  thing  is  not  good 
because  others  are  worse,  nor  is  it  any  excuse  for  walking 
in  the  paths  of  sin,  that  we  are  only  midway,  and  have  not 
yet  reached  the  extremity ;  the  answer  is  surely  very  obvious 

13* 


150  ON  THE  MODE  OF  PASSING  THE  SABBATH. 

to  such  an  excuse  ;  why  do  you  continue  in  such  an  ungodly 
state,  that  you  must  either  do  that  which  you  do  not  approve, 
or  something  else  which  you  approve  still  less  ?  Why  must 
your  progress  he  from  negligence  to  guilt,  and  why  the  very 
moment  that  you  abstain  from  levity  on  the  Sabbath  must 
you  be  charged  with  crime  ?  the  fact  may  be  true,  but  it  is 
no  justification  of  your  contempt  for  the  Sabbath ;  it  is  only 
to  say,  though  we  are  unwilling  to  make  those  sacrifices 
and  exertions  necessary  to  a  discharge  of  our  duty,  we  will 
not  deviate  from  that  duty  grossly ;  we  will  disobey  God  in 
a  method  as  little  burthensome  to  our  conscience  as  possible ; 
but  disobey  him  we  must ;  such  is  the  plain  meaning  of  that 
style  of  reasoning  which  many  of  us  are  unfortunate  enough 
to  consider  as  an  excuse  for  the  violation  of  the  Sabbath. 
Amusement  on  the  Sabbath  is  not  vice,  perhaps,  but  untimely 
amusement  leads  to  ungodhness,  by  checking  seriousness 
and  sanctity  of  thought,  and  by  breaking  down  the  barriers 
of  propriety.  The  greater  part  of  those  who  avail  them- 
selves, to  any  Christian  purpose,  of  the  institution  of  the 
Sabbath,  do  not  do  so,  perhaps,  from  any  preconceived  resolu- 
tion ;  but  the  quiet  solemnity  of  the  day,  and  the  total  altera- 
tion of  the  usual  appearances,  insensibly  introduce  a  new 
train  of  ideas,  which  could  never  be  the  case  if  the  same 
resources  of  frivolous  dissipation  were  equally  accessible  at 
every  period.  On  this  day,  the  pastor,  standing  between 
God  and  the  people,  and  clothed  about  with  doctrines  of 
truth,  boldly  speaks  of  faith,  and  charity,  and  holy  love,  and 
preaches  Christ  crucified,  and  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  the 
dead  rising  from  their  graves,  and  the  life  of  the  world  to 
come  ;  and  when  he  hears  these  things,  (for  on  this  day  alone 
he  does  hear  them,)  the  miscreant  of  this  earth  trembles,  the 
loftiest  guilt  gathers  paleness,  the  cross  is  hfted  up  on  high, 
and  every  soul  is  prostrate  at  the  feet  of  Christ.  It  is  on  this 
day,  perhaps,  that  the  man  who  has  been  gathering,  and 
hoarding  all  his  life,  begins  first  to  find  his  confidence  in 
earthly  treasures  weakened  and  impaired  ;  on  this  day,  the 
strong  think  of  death  ;  the  youthful  of  old  age  ;  the  comely  of 
pale  disease ;  on  this  day,  the  son  of  pleasure  starts  from  his 
delicious  vices,  and  thinks  of  a  world  to  come. 

Those  common  amusements,  the  innocence  of  which  is, 
by  some,  so  strongly  contended  for,  must  have  a  tendency  to 
destroy  completely  the  virtue  and  efficacy  of  the  Sabbath ;  it 
is  in  the  absence  of  our  usual  occupations,  and  at  the  season 


^ 


ON  THE  MODE  OF  PASSING  THE  SABBATH.  151 

of  leisure,  that  conscience  regains  her  empire  over  us,  and  that 
man  is  compelled  to  hear  the  reproaches  of  his  own  heart ; 
the  mind  turned  inwardly  upon  itself,  beholds  the  melancholy- 
ravages  of  passion,  the  treacherous  power  of  pleasure,  and 
the  sad  waste  of  Hfe.  Every  recurring  Sabbath  properly 
spent,  is  a  fresh  chance  for  salvation ;  if  dignity  is  ever  reco- 
vered after  the  feehng  of  self-degradation  has  been  long  en- 
dured ;  if  the  latter  half  of  Hfe  is  ever  dedicated  to  the  Avorks 
of  godliness  and  knowledge,  when  the  days  of  youth  have 
been  squandered  in  impiety  and  ignorance  ;  if  tears  of  feeling 
ever  flow  again  from  the  dry  eye  ;  if  blushes  of  shame  are 
ever  brought  back  to  the  hardened  cheek,  it  is  to  the  awful 
voice  and  warning  aspect  of  the  Sabbath  more  than  to  any 
other  cause,  that  mankind  are  indebted  for  these  wholesome 
and  pleasing  examples  of  repentance. 

To  keep  the  Sabbath  in  levity,  and  with  every  species  of 
ordinary  indulgence,  is  not  to  keep  it  at  all ;  it  diminishes 
the  probability  of  improvement  by  making  us  believe  that  we 
have  dedicated  a  day  to  rehgion  which  we  have  dedicated  to 
everything  but  rehgion ;  like  all  other  false  piety,  it  confirms 
and  supports  sin  by  inspiring  an  unmerited  approbation  of 
ourselves,  and  by  soothing  the  useful  severity  of  inward  exa- 
mination; in  this,  indeed,  and  in  every  other  similar  case,  it 
may  be  doubtful  whether  it  were  not  better  to  lay  aside  all 
pretensions  to  religion  at  once  than  to  quiet  our  conscience 
by  a  belief  so  powerless,  that  we  cannot  sacrifice  to  it,  for  the 
least  interval  of  time,  the  least  of  all  our  pleasures.  After 
all  I  have  said,  it  is  but  too  plain  from  whence  these  trifling 
arguments  for  trifling  away  the  Sabbath  proceed  :  they  pro- 
ceed, I  fear,  from  that  advanced  state  of  wealth  and  civiliza- 
tion, w^hich  precludes  so  many  human  beings  from  the  neces- 
sity of  any  mental  exertion,  and  the  example  of  this  class  of 
society  spreads  rapidly  downwards,  destroying  as  it  descends ; 
they  learn  early  to  seek  for  gratification,  which  is  immediate, 
and  become  so  weakened  by  long  indulgence  that  they  are 
incapable  of  supporting  serious  thought  for  a  single  instant ; 
that  vacuity  is  considered  as  worse  than  death,  which  is  not 
filled  up  by  the  exultations  of  vanity  or  the  perturbations  of 
sense.  Such  is  the  deep  infatuation,  and  the  melancholy 
imbecility  of  a  life  of  fashionable  amusement,  called  by  the 
current  error  of  the  world,  a  life  of  pleasure ;  but  pitied  by 
the  good  and  wise,  as  a  life  of  wretchedness,  leading  to  a 
death  of  despair. 


153       ON  THE  MODE  OF  PASSING  THE  SABBATH. 

Having  said  thus  much  upon  the  manner  in  which  the 
Sabbath  ought  not  to  be  passed,  it  will  be  still  more  easy  to 
state  the  few  simple  rules  which  that  solemn  institution  calls 
upon  us  to  fulfil.  The  first  of  these  is  public  worship  ;  the 
great  object  of  every  human  being  should  be,  his  progress  in 
righteousness  ;  and  the  sanctity  of  the  Sabbath  surely  affords 
us  the  most  favourable  of  all  occasions  for  such  a  communica- 
tion with  our  own  hearts.  What  have  I  done  wrong  ?  In 
what  manner  could  I  have  acted  more  conformably  to  the 
spirit  of  the  Gospel  ?  What  rules  for  future  conduct  can  I 
found  upon  my  failures  and  my  misfortunes?  Whence  have 
my  joys  and  my  sorrows  sprung  ?  Am  I  advancing  in  the 
great  science  of  life  ?  Is  my  dominion  over  present  enjoyment 
strengthened  ?  Is  my  perception  of  distant  good  enhvened  ? 
Am  I  the  disciple  of  Christ  ?  Do  I  strive  by  a  just,  gentle, 
and  benevolent  life,  to  keep  my  conscience  void  of  offence 
towards  God  and  man  ?  This  is  the  true  use  and  this  is  the 
proper  discipline  of  the  Sabbath :  thus  live  the  souls  of  the 
just  in  the  dungeons  of  the  flesh;  thus  the  blessings  and  glories 
of  the  Gospel  are  scattered  over  the  face  of  the  earth. 

It  is  also  an  important  part  of  the  duties  of  the  Sabbath,  to 
converse  with  serious  and  impressive  books :  such,  above  all, 
as  the  great  and  eloquent  ministers  of  the  word  have  left 
behind  them  for  a  memorial  to  all  time,  for  a  pillar  of  light  in 
the  desert :  by  their  arguments,  their  piety,  and  their  learn- 
ing, the  devout  Christian  will  find  his  reason  enlightened, 
his  faith  confirmed,  his  knowledge  expanded,  his  zeal  in- 
flamed, and  he  will  rise  up  from  the  labours  of  the  dead  to 
act  a  wiser  and  better  part  among  the  living. 

On  the  Sabbath,  every  man  ought  to  think  of  death ;  not 
to  think  of  death  languidly,  but  to  bring  it  in  bold  relief  before 
his  eyes  ;  to  gaze  at  it  as  if  he  were  hereafter  to  meet  it,  and 
to  learn  from  that  effort  of  his  mind,  the  most  difficult,  and 
the  most  sublime  of  all  lessons.  This  is  the  season  in  which 
we  are  called  on  to  fling  off  the  drapery  of  the  world,  to  for- 
get we  are  powerful,  to  forget  we  are  young,  to  forget  we 
are  rich,  to  pass  over  all  the  scenes  of  life,  till  we  get  at  the 
last,  and  to  remember  only,  that  we  must  die,  and  be  judged 
by  the  Son  of  God.  For  the  Sabbath  is  not  only  a  day  of 
rest  to  the  body,  but  it  is  a  day  of  refreshment  to  the  mind. 
The  spirit  of  it  is  not  only  to  lift  up  the  body  that  is  bowed 
down,  but  to  purify  the  soul  that  is  spotted  by  the  world. 
Thou  §halt  do  no  manner  of  work,  thou  shalt  not  be  the  slave 


ON  THE  MODE  OF  PASSING  THE  SABBATH.  153 

of  avarice,  nor  of  ambition,  nor  of  vanity,  nor  of  pride ;  as  your 
body  is  cheered  for  the  toils  of  the  days  that  are  to  come, 
your  soul  shall  be  more  estranged  from  the  temptations  of 
life,  and  better  guarded  against  its  perils. 

To  conclude ;  one  of  the  main  pillars  on  which  religion, 
and  consequently  our  temporal  and  eternal  happiness  rests, 
is  the  conservation  of  the  Sabbath ;  against  this  the  natural 
course  of  human  vices,  and  the  designed  attacks  of  profligate 
innovators,  will  be  powerfully  directed ;  here  the  best  interests 
of  mankind  are  to  be  defended  by  vigilance,  by  strong  unso- 
phisticated sense,  and  by  a  decided  disregard  of  that  ridicule 
that  would  throw  an  air  of  rusticity,  inelegance,  and  even  of 
bigotry,  over  these  institutions,  of  themselves  solemn  and 
affecting;  but  from  what  they  protect,  inestimable.  If  ever 
we  live  to  see  the  Sabbath  dwindle  down  to  an  ordinary  day 
of  pleasure  and  of  toil,  the  sun  of  Christianity  is  for  a  time 
set ;  God  will  give  us  up  to  the  madness  of  our  crimes,  and 
after  a  century  of  horrors,  we  shall  begin  to  remember  that 
that  there  was  once  a  day,  which  our  forefathers  set  apart 
to  repent  them  of  their  sins,  and  to  worship  th^  l^qrd  thei? 
God. 


SERMON    XXII. 

ON  THE   ERRORS   OF  YOUTH. 


It  is  good  for  a  man  that  hfe  bear  the  yoke  in  his  youth. — Lamentations 
Of  Jeremiah  hi.  verse  27. 

The  best  days  of  life  are  soon  gone ;  and  time,  that  stayeth 
never  for  man,  seems  then  to  fly  with  greater  speed.  Death 
lingers  to  the  old,  the  night  is  long  to  the  sick  man,  the  fresh- 
ness of  the  morning  will  not  bring  him  his  strength,  and  he 
crieth  out  in  vain  for  the  peace  of  the  grave.  To  all  these 
the  sun  is  slow  in  his  course,  and  they  bear  the  burthen  of 
their  days ;— -but  youth  is  a  dream  of  gladness  which  comes 
but  to  vanish ;  it  is  sweet  as  a  smile  that  perishes  ;  it  is  bright 
and  rapid  as  the  arrows  of  God  when  he  shooteth  his  light- 
nings in  the  heavens. 

If  youth,  then,  is  the  season  when  the  foundation  of  wisdom 
is  to  be  laid,  and  if  that  season  passeth  away  thus  rapidly, 
we  must  not  suffer  occasions  to  escape  us  which  admit  of  no 
substitute  ;  nor  neglect  improvements  which  no  other  period 
of  life  will  ever  enable  us  to  attain. 

By  the  yoke,  I  understand  the  sacred  writer  to  mean,  in 
general,  a  state  of  discipline ;  everything  which  education 
teaches  ;  the  restraint  of  passions,  the  formation  of  habits,  and 
the  cultivation  of  faculties.  It  is  not  my  intention,  at  present, 
to  launch  into  so  wide  a  field  as  that  to  which  this  explanation 
would  seem  to  lead;  but  in  pointing  out  a  few  of  the  charac- 
teristic faults  of  youth,  to  show  in  what  manner  the  young 
are  most  likely  to  prove  intractable  to  that  yoke,  which  the 
prophet  admonishes  them  to  bear,  and  to  make  it  clear  what 
those  sins  and  infirmities  are  which  present  the  most  serious 
obstacle  to  their  progress  in  Christian  improvement. 

The  first  error  I  shall  notice,  and  to  which  I  consider  youth 


ON  THE  ERRORS  OF  YOUTH.  155 

to  be  more  exposed  than  any  other  period  of  life,  is  conceit ; 
that  which  our  Saviour  characterizes  under  the  name  of  high- 
mindedness,  an  over-weaning  opinion  of  our  own  good  and 
great  quahties. 

^  The  reason  of  this  is  very  obvious ;  the  comparisons  the 
young  have  made  between  themselves  and  their  fellow-crea- 
tures are  few  in  proportion  to  what  they  must  make  here- 
after ;  absolute  standard  of  excellence  there  is  none  ; — we 
only  think  ourselves  great  because  we  think  others  little; 
and  the  more  human  beings  we  mingle  with,  and  the  more 
frequently  we  institute  the  comparison,  the  more  probable  it 
is  that  we  shall  find  our  equals,  and  our  superiors  in  every 
accomplishment,  and  in  every  virtue. 

We  often  observe  men,  whose  sphere  of  life  has  been  ex- 
tremely confined,  to  be  conceited  through  every  period  of 
their  existence, — for  the  same  reason  that  the  young  are  con- 
ceited in  its  earliest  period,  because  they  have  measured 
themselves  with  very  few  of  their  species,  and  mistaking  all 
that  they  have  seen,  for  all  that  there  is,  have  so  confirmed 
themselves  in  habitual  conceit,  that  the  delusion  is  totally 
impregnable  to  all  future  conviction. 

Growing  experience  forces  upon  the  young  a  perception 
of  their  unjust  pretensions  ;  they  begin  to  discover  that  the 
world  had  made  some  progress  in  knowledge  before  their 
existence,  and  that  their  birth  will  not  be  hailed  as  the  great 
era  of  wisdom  and  of  truth. — It  is  necessary  to  live  for  a 
considerable  time,  and  in  various  scenes,  to  perceive  fully 
the  wisdom  of  those  practices  which  the  world  has  estab- 
lished, not  at  the  suggestion  of  any  one  individual,  but  from 
the  gradual  conviction  of  all,  that  they  were  best  adapted  to 
promote  the  general  happiness.  Our  fathers,  in  their  youth- 
ful days,  questioned  with  as  much  acuteness,  and  decided 
with  as  much  temerity  as  we  can  do  in  ours ;  if  the  progress 
of  life  has  taught  them  to  respect  what  in  its  origin  they 
despised  ;  if  they  have  traced  to  the  dictates  of  experience, 
many  things  which  they  at  first  attributed  to  prejudice  and 
ignorance  ;  if  they  have  learnt  to  mistrust  themselves  and 
confide  more  in  the  general  feelings  and  judgments  of  the 
world, — ^we  ought  not  to  suppose  ourselves  protected  from 
the  same  revolution  of  opinions,  or  imagine  that  those  early 
conceptions  of  human  life  shall  be  permanent  now,  which 
never  have  been  permanent  before. 
,i  These  remonstrances  against  conceit  (a  faihngas  injurious  to 


166  ON  tKt  ERRORS  OF  YOUTH. 

the  acquisition  of  Christian  as  of  human  improvement),  are  by- 
no  means  directed  against  the  spirit  of  free  inquiry;  from  which 
a  strong  mind  cannot  and  ought  not  to  be  debarred,  any  more 
than  a  strong  body  ought  to  be  from  perfect  activity  of  motion ; 
only  the  young  should  consider  that  it  is  not  a  necessary  conse^ 
quence  that  no  reason  can  be  found  because  they  can  find  none; 
or  even  obtain  none  from  a  few  persons  to  whom  they  have  pro- 
posed their  difficulty ;  and  who,  perhaps,  can  see  and  practice 
right  without  the  power  of  explaining  or  defending  it. 

To  incline  to  the  one  side  or  the  other  is  natural  and  not 
blamable  in  the  young ;  but  when  you  are  so  liable  to  error,  do 
not  decide  so  that  you  cannot  decently  retract ;  avoid  the  fatal 
mistake  of  being  so  violent  and  positive  that  you  are  either 
sacramented  for  life,  to  the  first  crude  system  you  have 
adopted,  or  forced  to  abandon  it,  hereafter,  with  the  imputation 
of  folly  or  of  guilt.  Courage  and  firmness  in  maintaining  im- 
portant opinions  are  worthy  attributes,  but  in  proportion  as 
any  opinion  is  marked  by  moderation  and  formed  upon  re- 
flection, it  is  most  likely  to  be  retained  with  spirit.  Extrava- 
gance in  opinion  is  the  parent  of  change,  and  frequent  change 
produces  at  last  a  profligate  indifference  to  all  opinion.  The 
person  who  is  firm  and  consistent  in  his  manhood,  has  most 
probably  been  modest  in  his  youth ;  so  true  it  is  that  all  the 
humility  so  strongly  enjoined  by  the  Gospel  is  not  calculated 
to  repress  and  extinguish  human  powers,  but  to  adjust  the 
degree  of  confidence  with  which  they  are  exercised,  to  the 
degree  of  excellence  with  which  they  are  endowed,  and  to 
take  care  that  that  which  is  fallible  should  not  be  presump- 
tuous. 

-  All  those  who  judge  of  the  world  by  ideal  rather  than 
actual  models  of  excellence,  are  in  some  little  danger  of  be- 
coming too  contemptuous ; — the  imagination  can  easily  repre- 
sent somewhat  superior  to  what  ever  existed  or  ever  will 
exist ;  by  assembling  all  the  excellencies  which  nature  has 
scattered  among  many  real  beings  into  one  fictitious  one;  and, 
by  omitting  all  defects,  we  have  at  once  a  monster  of  perfec- 
tion, to  which  our  sad  medley  of  good  and  evil  cannot  be 
compared  without  disgrace. — Such  is  the  case  with  the  young 
who  despise  imperfection,  because  extended  observation  has 
not  yet  shown  them,  that  the  realities  of  life  always  fall  far 
short  of  the  pictures  of  the  mind,  and  that  they  can  easily 
conceive  what  they  never  will  be  able  to  find.  The  increase 
of  years  with  many  evils  brings  this  good,- — that  our  expecta- 


ON  THE  ERRORS  OF  YOUTH^  157 

tions  of  life  are  more  accommodated  to  its  true  state ;  we  are 
no  longer  surprised  at  flagrant  inconsistencies  in  character, 
nor  disgusted  that  prejudice  and  weakness  should  twine 
round  the  loftiest  virtues ;  we  are  contented  with  the  mixtures 
of  good  and  evil,  as  it  has  been  mingled  for  us  and  do  not 
despise  our  species  because  God  has  made  them  lower  than 
the  angels. 

Prudence  is,  perhaps,  another  cause  that  checks  the  indul- 
gence of  contempt  as  we  advance  in  life ;  the  world  we  find 
has  inevitable  difficulties  enough  without  the  wanton  exaspe- 
ration of  our  fellow-creatures.  Contempt  is  commonly  mis- 
taken by  the  young  for  an  evidence  of  understanding ;  but  no 
habit  of  mind  can  afford  this  evidence,  which  is  neither  diffi- 
cult to  acquire  nor  meritorious  when  it  is  acquired  ;  and  as  it 
is  certainly  very  easy  to  be  contemptuous,  so  it  is  very  useless 
if  not  very  pernicious.  To  discover  the  imperfections  of 
others  is  penetration  ;  to  hate  them  for  those  faults  is  con- 
tempt. We  may  be  clear-sighted  without  being  malevolent, 
and  make  use  of  the  errors  we  discover  to  learn  caution,  not  to 
gratify  satire ;  that  part  of  contempt  which  consists  of  acute- 
ness  we  may  preserve ;  its  dangerous  ingredient  is  censure. 

Contempt  so  far  from  being  favourable  to  the  improvement 
of  the  mind,  is,  perhaps,  directly  the  reverse ;  it  increases  so 
rapidly  that  it  soon  degenerates  into  a  passion  for  condemna- 
tion ;  the  sense  of  what  is  good  withers  away,  and  the  per- 
ception of  evil  becomes  so  keen  and  insatiable  that  every 
decision  we'make  is  satire,  not  judgment.  All  things  have  a 
double  aspect ;  the  contemptuous  man  sees  them  only  on  one 
side  and  does  not  believe  they  have  any  other ;  he  has  sacri- 
ficed an  excellent  faculty  to  an  unchristian  and  malevolent 
indulgence. 

Wisdom  consists  in  doing  difficult  things  which  the  mass 
of  mankind  cannot  do  :  there  is  a  much  more  compendious 
road  to  reputation  in  doing  nothing  and  in  blaming  everything; 
in  pointing  out  where  others  are  deficient  without  proving 
where  we  excel.  In  this  way  a  contemptuous  person  gives 
himself  virtues  by  implication,  as  if  the  opposite  perfection 
were  immediately  infused  into  his  own  mind,  the  moment  he 
had  discovered  a  defect  in  the  mind  of  another.  Real  wisdom 
rather  delights  in  positive  exertions  and  seeks  for  reputation 
by  showing  what  itself  is,  not  by  boasting  what  others  are 
not. 

Contempt  and  conceit  are  those  faults  which  Christianity 
14 


158  ON  THE  ERRORS  OF  YOUTH. 

SO  often  condemns  under  the  appellation  of  high-mindedness  ; 
they  are  passions  connected  with  hatred  ;  and  utterly  incom- 
patible with  that  simple  and  venerable  benevolence  which  our 
Saviour  practised,  loved  and  taught ;  and,  surely,  if  any  one 
has  a  right  to  look  down  upon  the  world  with  contempt,  it  is 
not  he  who  has  just  entered  into  it ;  if  great  actions,  admi- 
rable qualities  and  profound  knowledge,  are  sources  of  superi- 
ority, they  most  probably  will  not  be  traced  in  that  person  to 
whom  so  short  a  period  of  existence  has  yet  afforded  little 
leisure  for  thought,  word  and  deed. 

Impatience  of  obscurity  is  another  fault  of  which  the  young 
are  very  apt  to  be  guilty;  and  a  fault  the  more  to  be  compas- 
sionated, because  by  a  very  little  management  it  might  be 
converted  into  a  virtue.  The  highest  virtue  flows  only  from 
an  obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  as  evinced  in  the  Scriptures; 
but  we  must  meliorate  the  wrong  if  we  cannot  attain  the 
right ;  and  regulate  that  love  of  praise  which  we  cannot  ex- 
tirpate. The  best  atonement  we  can  make  for  loving  the 
praise  of  men  is  by  loving  that  praise  only  which  is  given  to 
actions  difficult,  meritorious  and  good.  Unfortunately  the 
young  are  so  fond  of  attracting  notice,  that  they  are  often  in- 
duced to  purchase  it  at  any  price  ; — by  spirited  extravagance 
— super-eminence  in  vice — by  a  bold  violation  of  the  restric- 
tions of  society — by  paradox — by  a  witty  contempt  for  the 
good  maxims  which  safely  guide  slower  understandings — by 
assuming  a  versatile  profligacy  of  opinion,  such  as  has  some- 
times marked  brilliant  men  of  extraordinary  parts — by  an 
unripe  skepticism  which  doubts  before  comprehension  or 
discussion — by  levity,  which  laughs  when  the  wise  tremble, 
and  would  mock  at  God,  to  gain  a  moment's  applause  from 
the  lowest  of  his  creatures.  By  this  impatience,  displaying 
itself  in  some  one  or  other  of  these  shapes,  the  young  are 
often  irretrievably  ruined.  'J'hey  do  not  reflect  that  they 
must  be  httle  before  they  can  be  great ;  that  the  privilege  of 
being  listened  to  must  be  gained  by  listening ;  and  that  he 
who  is  too  vain  to  begin  with  being  insignificant,  will  most 
probably  be  so  through  the  whole  of  his  existence.  There  is 
one  path  to  real  fame,  but  that  is  sHppery  and  steep  ;  many 
fall  headlong  down  ;  and  few  ever  arrive  at  the  summit.  If 
you  have  power,  begin,  but  take  the  true  path  or  none ;  be  too 
proud  to  implore  a  little  praise  for  your  follies  and  perversi- 
ties ;  if  you  cannot  dig,  be  ashamed  to  beg;  you  had  better  be 
the  lowest  of  man  than  glorious  in  the  annals  of  sin,  and 


ON  THE  ERRORS  OF  YOUTH,  159 

honoured  by  the  vicious  only  because  you  have  exceeded 
them  in  vice ;  this  is  a  greatness  of  which  any  man  who  could 
be  truly  great  would  be  heartily  ashamed.  Let  us  be  honestly 
obscure  or  rightfully  eminent.  The  praise  of  this  world  is 
an  idle  breath,  even  when  it  is  well  deserved  ;  but  when  it 
breathes  on  the  wicked,  it  only  reddens  the  flames  of  hell. 

There  can  hardly  be  any  occasion  that  I  should  descant 
much  upon  the  impetuosity  of  youth ;  it  is  so  sure  of  bring- 
ing with  it  its  own  corrective,  and  the  inconvenience  is  so 
obviously  and  immediately  connected  with  its  cause,  that 
there  is  less  need  of  proving  its  existence  or  animadverting 
upon  its  consequences.  We  should  always  frame  in  our  minds 
the  most  consummate  model  of  each  virtue ;  fashioning  our 
own  conduct  upon  it,  as  well  as  we  are  able,  and  sure  that  a 
proportionate  excellence  will  always  be  observed  between  them, 
whatever  be  the  absolute  distance  between  the  standard  and 
the  imitation.  Impetuosity  then  is  not  the  most  perfect  model 
of  courage ;  there  is  something  in  it  to  admire  and  much  to 
blame  ;  we  must  select  from  it  the  admirable  and  never  rest 
satisfied  till  we  have  wrought  out  a  perfect  image  of  what 
that  virtue  is  which  impetuosity  counterfeits;  and  to  the 
slight  infusion  of  which  it  owes  all  the  little  admiration  it 
excites.  It  is  very  possible  to  be  firm  in  the  maintainance  of 
rights,  and  in  the  discharge  of  duties,  without  being  violent. 
That  conviction  of  the  justice  of  our  cause,  which  is  one  of  the 
great  props  of  virtue,  is  best  preserved  when  we  are  least  likely 
to  impair  it  by  the  violence  of  passion.  When  we  are  growing 
higher  in  our  own  estimation,  by  the  moderation  we  exhibit,  and 
by  that  management  which  enables  us  to  become  firm  instead 
ot  fierce.  Impetuosity  is  still  more  useless  in  the  business 
than  in  the  dangers  of  life.  The  power  of  good  sense  is  as 
irresistible  as  the  power  of  gravitation  ;  there  are  disturbing 
forces ;  but  in  the  great  cycle  of  ages  the  world  is  governed 
by  calm  and  circumspect  men  ;  whose  sagacity  in  discerning 
and  whose  consistency  in  acting  are  rarely  disturbed  by  emo- 
tions which  they  cannot  control.  The  greatest  of  all  men  are 
those  who  can  use  their  passions  as  auxiliaries  without  obey- 
ing them  as  masters.  But  involuntary  impetuosity  is  so  much 
an  enemy  to  understanding  that  it  is  better  to  want  passions 
altogether  than  blindly  to  obey  them. 

There  is  no  fault  which  Christianity  labours  more  to  cor- 
rect than  that  of  an  impetuous  mind.  "  Could  I  not  call  down 
legions  of  Angels?"  said  Jesus,  as  he  went  captive  to  the  hall 


160  ON  THE  ERRORS  OF  YOUTH. 

of  Pilate.  He  spake  no  word  against  them,  say  the  Scrip- 
tures, though  they  clothed  him  in  the  mock  robe  of  majesty, 
and  beat  him  with  rods,  and  crowned  him  with  thorns ;  and 
when  they  had  nailed  his  limbs  to  the  cross,  he  said,  "  Lord,  be 
merciful  to  them ;  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

These  are  the  principal  errors  by  an  attention  to  which 
the  salutary  yoke  of  discipline  may  be  best  supported  in  the 
season  of  youth.  To  put  on  that  humihty  which  is  so  well 
accommodated  to  the  beginning  of  wisdom  and  the  beginning 
of  life,  will  spare  future  shame  and  future  change  ;  and  enable 
us  to  pursue  a  simple,  consistent  tenour  of  improvement  in 
piety  and  knowledge.  In  subduing  a  tendency  to  contempt 
we  shall  avoid  malevolent  feelings,  which  always  bring  with 
them  their  own  punishment;  we  shall  not  become  blind  to 
perfections  and  curiously  acute  only  in  the  detection  of  evil. 
In  reducing  vanity  Avithin  due  bounds,  we  shall  remain  under 
our  own  laws  instead  of  yielding  obedience  to  a  multitude ; 
we  shall  live,  not  in  dramatic  agitation,  but  with  firmness, 
freedom  and  content.  In  curbing  early  impetuosity  and  con- 
verting it  into  steady  perseverance  in  affairs,  and  cool  intre- 
pidity in  dangers,  we  shall  pass  through  life  safely  and  pros- 
perously, and  with  as  little  experience  of  evil  as  wisdom  can 
ensure  in  a  world  where  wisdom  does  not  reign  alone. — The 
sum  and  glory  of  these  individual  improvements  are  a  rich 
progress  in  Christian  wisdom. — A  mind  beautifully  inlaid 
with  the  thoughts  of  angels,  and  wrought  about  with  the 
signs  and  marks  of  Heaven.  Bear  this  yoke  for  a  while 
when  you  are  young  that  you  may  be  free  when  you  are 
old ;  that  you  may  walk  through  life  unmanacled  by  passions, 
unchained  by  lusts,  spurning  the  lash  of  Satan,  and  deriding 
the  bondage  of  sin ;  that  you  may  come  to  that  holy  and 
happy  land  where  no  yoke  is  borne ;  where  the  souls  of 
just  men  are  illumined  with  amazing  glory,  and  compassed 
round  about  by  the  holiness  of  God. 


SERMON   XXIII. 

ON   SELF-EXAMINATION. 

,_'J 
We  spend  our  years,  as  it  were  a  tale  that  is  told. — Psalms  xc.  verse  9. 

When  we  hear  a  story  pleasantly  set  forth  in  appropriate 
language  and  with  well-contrived  incidents,  the  mind  hangs 
upon  it  eagerly,  and  falls  from  a  certain  height  of  enjoyment 
when  it  is  concluded :  there  is  no  sense  of  the  passage  of 
time :  hut  the  wit  and  genius  of  the  narrator  abridge  it  to 
the  duration  of  a  moment ;  so  it  is  with  the  years  of  the  rich 
and  great ;  they  are  spent  as  a  tale  that  is  pleasantly  told  ; 
there  is  no  monotony  in  the  events,  no  slownes/  in  the  suc- 
cession ;  novelty  ever  refreshes  the  fable,  and  *"genius  ever 
adorns  it :  on  a  sudden  the  noise  is  all  hushed,  the  tale  is 
told ;  our  years  are  brought  to  an  end,  and  the  silence  of 
death  succeeds. 

I  seize  then  with  some  eagerness  upon  the  occasion  which 
the  conclusion  of  the  year  presents,  to  press  upon  you  the 
duty  of  self-examination,  and  to  protest  against  that  life  which 
is  passed  without  pause  and  without  reflection. 

It  is  these  artificial  divisions  of  time  which  teach  men  to 
think  of  its  rapid  pace  ;  whenever  the  idea  of  change  is  intro- 
duced, there  comes  with  it  that  melancholy  which  is  the 
parent  of  virtue ;  the  mind  is  carried  on  from  one  vicissitude 
to  another,  till  it  stops,  and  trembles  at  the  last ;  now  it  is 
that  our  thoughts  are  more  than  ordinarily  serious ;  now  it  is 
that  we  listen  to  the  lowly  breathings  of  conscience,  that  we 
remember  that  this  world  is  not  the  last  scene  of  existence, 
that  we  catch  a  distant  glimpse  of  the  grave  ;  how  blest  are 
they  who  hear  from  that  conscience  the  voice  of  praise,  and 
see  beyond  that  grave  the  prospect  of  salvation. 

We  spend  our  years  as  a  tale  that  is  told;  that  is,  we  live 
14* 


162  ON  SELF-EXAMINATION. 

SO  as  to  banish  reflection ;  we  do  not  enter  into  any  serious 
computation  of  the  progress  we  have  made  in  godliness ;  we 
do  not  balance  the  increase  of  virtue  against  the  waste  of  life ; 
there  is  no  care  that  the  soul  should  be  more  pure  because 
the  body  is  more  frail ;  that  the  inward  man  should  be  more 
fit  to  live  with  Christ,  as  the  outward  man  is  more  ready  to 
fall  down  into  his  native  dust. 

To  stop  this  easy  and  fatal  flow  of  life,  and  to  extract  reli- 
gious wisdom  from  years,  we  must  have  recourse  to  self- 
examination  ;  another  year  of  my  life  is  gone ;  am  I  better 
by  that  year  ?  is  there  one  bad  passion  which  I  have  con- 
quered, reduced,  or  even  attacked  ?  am  I  more  respectable  in 
my  own  eyes  ?  am  I  more  the  child  of  grace  ?  do  I  feel  an 
increased  power  over  sin  ?  can  I  fairly  say  for  the  year  that 
is  past,  that  I  have  done  something  ?  that  I  have  advanced 
a  single  step  towards  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  ?  or  must 
I  say,  after  the  sun  has  carried  light  and  heat  through  all  the 
nations  ;  after  nature  has  gone  through  her  great  circle  ;  and 
the  bud,  and  the  leaf,  and  the  fruit  have  once  more  appeared, 
that  I  am  where  I  was  before,  still  sinning  and  resolving;  still 
weeping  and  offending ;  a  feeble,  contrite  being,  unable  to 
attain  the  virtue  which  I  seek,  and  sure  of  being  punished  for 
the  sin  which  I  cannot  avoid  ? 

Let  us  first  remember,  in  discussing  the  utility  of  self- 
examination,  that  it  must  be  done  at  repeated  intervals  when 
it  is  profitable ;  or  it  must  be  done  OQce  for  all,  when  it  is  too 
late  ;  if  you  wish  to  moderate  those  reproaches  which  an 
human  being  makes  to  his  own  heart,  give  them  their  entrance 
now :  hear  them  at  this  time  in  obedient  silence,  or  they  will 
rush  in  when  the  tale  is  nearly  told,  and  visit  you  with  such 
anguish  as  might  well  be  avoided  by  a  life  of  moderate 
wretchedness ;  if  you  love  difficulty  better  than  despair,  and 
are  not  willing  to  purchase  a  respite  from  present  pain  at  the 
expense  of  eternal  affliction,  do  this  now  that  you  may  not 
hereafter  be  compelled  to  do  worse.  Judge,  or  God  will 
judge  ;  repent,  or  he  will  punish. 

To  avail  ourselves  of  such  a  period  as  this,  for  the  purposes 
of  self-examination,  is  more  necessary  in  this  great  city,  than  in 
any  other  situation,  because  there  are  fewer  blanks  in  our 
existence  here  than  there  can  be  anywhere  else.  We  strug- 
gle here  not  only  for  wealth  and  power,  and  pleasure,  but  for 
the  greatest  wealth,  the  highest  power,  and  the  keenest  plea- 
sure.— If  the  game  of  hfe  is  played  elsewhere  with  attention, 


ON  SELF-EXAMINATION.  163 

it  is  played  here  with  passionate  avidity :  the  sun  goes  down 
too  soon ;  and  we  chide  the  morning  star  till  it  brings  us  back 
to  the  world.  It  is  not  here  that  men  are  ever  driven  back 
into  their  own  hearts  ;  men  never  see  their  own  hearts  ;  they 
know  not  what  dwells  there ;  whether  it  be  the  powers  of 
darkness,  or  the  angels  of  God. 

It  is  not  merely  the  want  of  leisure  in  great  cities,  which 
makes  it  necessary  to  enter  into  that  voluntary  self-examina- 
tion to  which  we  should  never  be  impelled  from  the  circum- 
stances in  which  we  are  placed,  but  that  according  to  the 
common  notions  of  men,  there  are  no  objects  in  great  cities 
which  can  inspire  solemn  and  religious  ideas.  And  yet, 
where  is  God  more  visible  than  in  great  cities  ?  Can  we  see 
infinite  wisdom  and  power  in  torrents,  mountains,  and  in 
clouds,  and  not  discern  them  in  this  wonderful  arrangement 
of  rights,  appetites  and  pretensions  ?  Is  God  not  visible  in 
laws  and  constitutions  ?  Is  he  not  visible  in  refinement  ?  Is 
he  not  visible  in  reasoning  ?  Are  not  poets  and  orators  and 
statesmen  more  stupendous  creations  of  God  than  all  the  depth 
of  the  valleys,  and  all  the  strength  of  the  hills  ?  If  we  are  to 
be  lured  to  God  by  all  we  see  of  his  greatness  and  his  power, 
here  are  his  noblest  works,  and  here  his  subhmest  power ; 
here  he  is  to  be  felt,  and  honoured  and  adored. 

An  important  reason  for  dedicating  such  periods  as  these  to 
the  duties  of  self-examination  is  that  our  deficiencies  must  neces- 
sarily be  perceived  ;  we  cannot  shelter  ourselves  under  a  belief 
that  the  shade  of  improvement  is  too  delicate  to  be  sensible ;  the 
year  has  either  made  us  better  or  it  has  not ;  we  may  not  go 
away  from  such  an  inquisition  satisfied,  but  we  can  scarcely 
go  away  deceived :  the  very  doubt  itself  is  an  answer.  If  the 
seventieth  part  of  our  rational  existence  has  glided  away,  and 
left  us  doubtful  whether  we  have  gained  upon  any  one  vice, 
the  hesitation  itself  is  almost  decisive  of  our  failure. 

Self-examination  is  important  if  life  eternal  is  important ; 
it  is  not  one  of  those  exercises  to  which  any  notion  of  degree 
can  be  applied;  it  is  not  more  or  less  useful,  but  it  is  indis- 
pensable ;  it  must  be ;  without  it  there  is  no  Christ,  no  right- 
eousness, no  life  hereafter ;  for  it  is  not  pretended  that  any 
man  is  born  to  continued  righteousness ;  no  man  from  an  ori- 
ginal sweetness  and  felicity  of  creation,  goes  on  doing  well 
from  the  beginning  of  his  days  to  the  end.  And  if  sin  is  uni- 
versal, inquisition  must  be  so  too ;  and  the  duty  of  self-exa- 
mination never  be  forgotten  or  excused. 


164  ON  SELF-EXAMINATION. 

It  is  not  so  much  the  higher  crimes  which  have  need  of 
self-examination.  No  one  asks  of  a  murderer  on  the  opening 
of  the  year,  to  reflect  on  blood-guiltiness ;  no  one  invites  an 
adulteress  to  think  on  her  husband  and  children,  and  on  that 
misery  which  she  is  preparing  for  her  own  soul :  these  feel- 
ings do  not  wait  for  our  call ;  they  come  unasked  for,  and  un- 
wanted to  torment  the  guilty  before  their  time.  But  the  vices 
which  need  self-examination  are  those  which  condemn  us  in 
the  sight  of  God,  without  creating  in  our  minds  any  instant 
and  pressing  alarm.  All  the  fruitful  family  of  original  sin, 
pride,  anger,  lust,  hypocrisy,  deceit,  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and 
all  uncharitableness  ;  for  all  these  things  a  man  shall  surely 
die,  though  they  do  not  make  him  pale  with  fear,  or  rouse 
him  from  his  sleep,  to  tremble  at  the  spectres  of  a  guilty  mind. 

Nor  let  it  be  supposed,  that  in  urging  our  fellow-creatures 
to  self-examination,  we  put  them  upon  any  exercise  which  is 
difficult  or  profound ;  or  in  which  one  human  creature  can 
make  a  greater  progress  than  another ;  for  it  is  fine  to  observe, 
that  reason,  when  she  meddles  with  science,  or  with  any- 
thing which  has  a  cold  and  distant  connection  with  human 
life,  can  wait  to  be  intricate  and  subtle;  she  can  toil  through 
many  steps,  and  be  content  with  small  acquirements,  and 
wait  patiently  and  retrace  carefully ;  but  when  she  comes  to 
the  business  of  salvation,  to  right  and  wrong,  to  holy  and  un- 
holy, she  is  as  quick  as  an  eagle's  wing,  and  as  rapid  as  the 
lightning  of  God.  In  a  moment  sl\e  pierces  through  a  thou- 
sand intricacies,  shivers  into  atoms  the  dull  heartless  sophis- 
try which  is  opposed  to  her  course,  and,  breaking  into  the 
chambers  of  the  soul,  scares  guilt  with  the  amazing  splendour 
of  truth.  Seek  and  ye  shall  find;  ask  and  ye  shall  have; 
knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  to  you.  No  man  ever  turned 
to  look  for  the  evil  that  was  within  him  and  was  repulsed 
with  the  difficulty.  Whatever  God  has  made  necessary,  God 
has  made  easy  ;  every  man  who  searcheth  his  heart  diligently, 
will  find  in  it  the  issues  of  fife. 

There  is  nothing  which  can  be  substituted  instead  of  self- 
examination,  renewed  at  intervals  ;  self-examination  volunta- 
rily and  intentionally  entered  into.  Sickness  prompts  us  to 
examine  our  own  hearts ;  but  we  may  not  be  in  that  manner 
visited  by  the  Almighty ;  old  age  warns  us  to  this  salutary 
task;  but  we  may  perish  in  youth;  misfortune  is  a  great 
master  of  reflection ;  but  we  may  be  successful  in  our  sins, 


ON  SELF-EXAMINATION.  165 

and  a  long  course  of  lucky  vice  may  obliterate  every  chance 
and  possibility  of  melioration. 

Self-examination  drives  men  to  great  exertions  by  inflicting 
upon  them  great  pains ;  for  the  remembrance  of  a  mis-spent 
life  commonly  brings  on  remorse,  a  feeling  that  the  harm 
cannot  be  recalled  or  repaired ;  it  is  not  like  falsehood  vi^hich 
may  be  corrected,  and  injustice  which  maybe  atoned  for;  but 
the  evil  done  is  often  out  of  the  power  of  repentance,  and  be- 
yond the  possibility  of  change. — It  is  this  which  makes  a  man 
start  up  in  the  midst  of  irreverent  old  age,  and  struggle  to 
give  a  few  months  or  years  to  God,  doubting  of  mercy,  and 
not  knowing  if  the  relics  of  his  days  will  be  accepted  at  the 
throne  of  grace.  If  timely  thought  can  save  us  from  a  state 
like  this,  it  is,  indeed,  worth  while  to  think. 

In  this  process  of  self-examination,  we  should,  among  other 
subjects  of  inquiry,  put  to  our  own  hearts  these  two  questions  : 
are  we  happy  ourselves ;  are  we  beloved  by  our  fellow-crea- 
tures ? — if  we  are  really  contented,  it  is  no  mean  evidence 
that  we  have  a  right  to  be  so:  if  no  human  being  is  in  a  state 
of  hostihty  against  us,  it  is  presumptive  evidence,  that  we 
have  given  no  occasion  of  offence ;  by  tracing  up  our  miseries 
we  shall  arrive  at  our  vices ;  and  by  putting  on  the  feehngs  of 
our  enemies,  and  entering  into  their  views  of  our  conduct,  we 
may  make  their  hostihty  a  motive  for  compensation,  and  a 
mean  of  improvement. 

In  self-examination,  I  would  have  a  man  think  of  death ;  he 
should  ask  his  own  heart  if  he  is  afraid  of  death;  why  he  is 
afraid  of  death?  what  he  has  done  to  make  it  an  object  of  fear? 
what  he  could  do  to  make  it  an  object  of  hope  ?  in  what  way 
he  can  make  ready  to  appear  before  his  Saviour,  and  all  the 
host  of  Heaven,  at  the  sound  of  the  everlasting  trumpet,  when 
the  heavens  and  the  earth  are  expiring  ?  The  use  of  self- 
examination  is  to  prepare  for  the  worst,  to  place  ourselves  in 
other  situations  and  other  circumstances  before  they  really 
exist,  that  we  may  meet  them  with  the  proper  energy,  Avhen 
they  are  brought  round  by  the  revolutions  of  the  world.  The 
business  is  to  think  of  sickness  in  health,  to  reflect  upon  old 
age  in  youth,  to  remember  death  in  life,  to  think  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  rendering  an  account  now,  while  perfect  freedom  of 
action  remains  :  to  feel  that  these  are  not  situations  which  may 
happen,  but  situations  which  must  happen.  Consider  the 
life  which  human  beings  lead,  and  tell  me  if  there  are  many 
men  who  put  these  things  faithfuhy  and  strongly  to  their  own 
hearts.     Look  at  a  young  man  in  all  the  flower  and  freshness 


166  ON  SELF-EXAMINATION. 

of  youth ;  he  acts,  and  he  thinks,  and  he  speaks,  as  if  that 
condition  of  body  was  ever  to  remain ;  he  forgets  when  his 
strength  is  gone,  and  his  nerves  are  trembhng  with  old  age, 
that  another  set  of  opinions,  congenial  to  the  mouldering  frame, 
will  get  possession  of  his  mind ;  and  that  all  his  animal  bra- 
very and  animal  happiness  will  vanish  as  the  machine  de- 
cays by  which  it  was  put  in  action  ;  so  with  injustice  and 
oppression,  when  a  poor  man  is  ground  to  the  earth,  when 
tlie  wealthy  Ahab  says,  "His  vineyard  shall  be  mine;  there 
is  no  judgment  for  the  poor  ;  I  am  the  Lord  of  the  earth ;" 
how  foolish  to  forget  that  God  sees  it  all ;  that  the  great  day 
will  come  when  the  oppressor  will  be  turned  into  the  crimi- 
nal ;  when  the  master  will  find  a  greater  master  than  he  ;  when 
every  wildness  and  wantonness  of  power  will  be  subjected  to 
the  searching  eye  of  omnipotent  justice  ;  therefore,  the  use  of 
self-examination  is  to  see  all  these  consequences  remotely, 
and  at  a  distance  to  measure  them  fairly,  and  to  deliberate 
duly  upon  them,  while  we  are  yet  secure  ;  not  to  determine 
upon  actions  which  must  affect  our  future  lives,  and  endanger 
our  salvation  through  the  influence  of  feelings,  which  will 
cease  with  that  portion  of  existence  from  which  they  spring, 
and  to  which  they  are  appropriate;  but  the  truly  evangehcal 
habit  of  self-examination  will  teach  us  to  consider  the  life  of 
man  in  all  its  parts,  and  under  all  its  revolutions  ;  will  teach 
us  to  diminish  those  sufferings  with  which  it  concludes,  by 
moderating  those  enjoyments  with  which  it  begins,  and  enable 
us  to  endure  that  awful  responsibility  which  awaits  us  in 
another  existence  by  inuring  us  to  justice  and  righteousness 
in  this. 

In  entering  into  this  species  of  judgment  with  ourselves, 
we  must  resolve  not  to  be  deceived  ;  the  Scriptures  do  not 
only  say,  try  thy  heart,  but  try  thy  heart  diligenily;  meaning 
thereby,  that  men  are  subject  to  every  species  of  deception  in 
this  exercise,  and  that  nothing  can  render  it  edifying  but  an 
honest  and  manly  resolution  to  get  at  the  truth ;  to  examine 
into  such  matters  falsely,  and  feebly,  is  only  to  disturb  plea- 
sure, without  improving  godliness ;  it  only  renders  sin  bitter, 
without  bringing  us  nearer  to  righteousness ;  therefore,  the 
affair  is  to  be  insisted  upon  earnestly,  and  subjected  to  calm 
revision  ;  and  every  habit  is  to  be  encouraged  which  can  ren- 
der a  man  candid  and  impartial  to  himself,  for  wretched  indeed 
is  the  state  of  that  man,  who  inquires  only  to  approve,  and 
who  throws  a  veil  over  the  dangers  of  sin,  by  the  mockery 
of  pious  investigation.        ?f  r  j-^r:. 


ON  SELF-EXAMINATION.  167 

I  have  laid  some  stress,  through  the  whole  of  my  dis- 
course, upon  the  necessity  of  systematic  and  intentional 
self-examination,  which  I  have  done  for  two  reasons  : — be- 
cause self-examination,  which  arises  from  accident,  is  often 
too  late,  or  it  may  not  take  place  at  all.  Some  men  pass 
through  life  without  meeting  with  any  serious  and  warning 
visitation  of  God  ;  they  pass  through  life,  therefore,  as  igno- 
rant of  themselves  as  of  any  human  being  with  whom  they 
have  never  held  the  smallest  intercourse  ;  there  are  men 
who  come  near  to  the  grave  without  having  once  entered 
into  their  own  hearts,  or  having  the  shghtest  conception  of 
that  system  of  passions  and  feehngs  which  is  going  on  there, 
and  working  their  everlasting  happiness  or  destruction. 
Many  a  man  dies,  possessing  all  other  knowledge  than  the 
best ;  master  of  the  secrets  of  nature ;  deeply  versed  in  the 
habits  of  mankind  ;  great  in  the  science  of  governing ;  com- 
pletely ignorant  of  himself;  not  knowing,  to  the  hour  of  his 
dissolution,  whether  he  is  the  child  of  sin  or  the  servant  of 
Christ. 

Blessed,  indeed,  blessed  above  all  his  fellow-creatures,  is 
he  who  can  bid  adieu  to  the  concluding  year,  without  an 
aching  heart ;  who  can  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  the  fresh 
time,  and  look  back,  to  say  he  has  not  hved  in  vain  ;  how 
pleasant,  to  open  his  arms  to  the  coming  spring,  and  to  think 
that  that  which  bringeth  flowers  and  green  herbs,  and  layeth 
the  unkind  winds  to  rest,  shall  bring,  also,  its  increase  of 
piety,  and  of  wisdom,  and  calm  the  troubles  of  the  mind. 
In  all  Europe,  the  new  year  is  celebrated  with  joy;  it  is  a  feast 
to  the  peasant,  and  to  the  child ;  and  there  is  no  man,  how- 
ever enhghtened  his  understanding,  who  will  look  down  on 
such  pleasures,  without  some  share  of  complacency  and 
approbation  ;  they  have  their  foundation  in  the  human  mind, 
which  is  ever  prone  to  hope,  and  looks  forward  to  brighter 
seasons  and  fairer  skies,  with  the  expectations  of  some  great 
advantage,  though  it  knows  not  precisely  what ;  let  us  give 
way  to  the  general  impulse,  and  usher  in  the  new  year  by 
some  act  of  Christian  mercy  and  goodness,  forgive  a  debt, 
forget  an  injury,  hold  out  your  hand  to  a  repentant  brother, 
take  back  to  your  heart  an  offending  child,  go  into  the  dark- 
ness of  the  dungeon,  and  refresh  the  sorrows  of  a  languishing 
prisoner;  make  this  season  holy  before  the  Lord  ;  do  something 
on  it,  which  may  gain  you  eternal  life  ;  before  the  last  days 
are  come,  before  the  years  are  brought  to  an  end,  as  it  were  a 
tale  that  is  told. 


liil.'  -ym^-*^: 


SEEMON   XXIV. 

ON    DISSIPATION. 


I  said  to  my  heart,  go  to,  now,  enjoy  pleasure ;  I  will  prove  thee  with 
mirth ;  but  behold,  this  also  is  vanity. — Ecclesiastes  ii.  verse  1. 

The  former  part  of  this  soliloquy  of  Solomon,  to  his  own 
heart,  we  have  all  pronounced  to  our  hearts  ;  we  all  have  said, 
"  Enjoy  pleasure  ;  I  will  prove  thee  with  mirth ;"  but  have 
we  been  wise,  or  fortunate  enough,  to  add,  with  the  royal 
moralist, — this  also  is  vanity? 

In  the  progress  of  society,  fresh  crimes,  follies,  and  virtues, 
as  well  as  new  sciences,  and  arts,  emerge  into  notice ;  and  to 
study  mankind  aright,  we  must  observe,  no  less  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  is  placed,  than  the  feelings,  passions, 
and  talents,  of  which  he  is  composed.  To  savage  men,  sur- 
rounded by  enemies,  and  trusting  to  their  daily  activity  for 
their  dail)?-  support,  abundance  and  ease  are  the  greatest  of 
human  blessings  ;  as  society  advances,  the  misery  of  man 
seems,  by  a  singular  inversion  of  destiny,  to  proceed  from  the 
very  cause  of  his  original  happiness  ;  thousands  are  rendered, 
miserable  by  tranquillity  and  opulence ;  are  ruined  by  a  fatal 
competence,  which  extinguishes  every  principle  of  action, 
and  feel  that  their  existence  is  a  burthen,  only  because  they 
have  escaped  from  the  curse  of  Adam,  and  are  not  doomed  to 
eat  their  bread  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow. 

When  we  are  taught  by  our  wants,  we  are  well  taught ; 
when  we  are  left  to  act  from  our  understanding,  our  conduct^, 
is  generally  more  imperfect  and  erroneous.  The  employ- 
ment of  time  is,  with  a  great  part  of  the  human  species,  who 
are  exempted  from  necessary  labour,  a  very  difficult  con* 
cern  ;  and  among  the  number  who  enjoy  the  hazardous  pri-, 
vilege  of  choosing  for  themselves,  there  are  not  very  many:^ 


ON  DISSIPATION.  169 

who  have  the  happiness  of  choosing  well ;  the  common 
expedient  is  pleasure,  by  which,  in  the  language  of  the 
world,  is  meant  a  succession  of  company,  amusement  and 
diversion  ;  an  excessive  pursuit  of  pleasure  has  received  the 
name  of  dissipation,  and  to  this  trite,  but  important  subject, 
I  shall  endeavour,  on  this  day,  to  call  your  serious  attention. 

Moderate  indulgence  glides  so  imperceptibly  into  vicious 
excess,  that  it  is  by  no  means  an  easy  task  to  point  out  their 
mutual  confines.  Some  evidence,  however,  an  attentive  ob- 
servation of  our  own  souls  will  necessarily  afford.  Whenever 
we  perceive  that  the  common  occurrences  of  life  become 
languid  and  tedious  ;  when  domestic  society  palls  upon  us  ; 
when  we  find  ourselves  perpetually  escaping  from  the  pre- 
sent hour,  and  looking  eagerly  forward  to  the  future  moments 
of  vanity  and  display ;  when  occasional  solitude  and  reflec- 
tion become  the  worst  of  evils,  and  splendour,  crowd,  and 
solicitude,  the  ever-recurring  objects  of  our  wishes  and  our 
cares  ;  when  instruction  has  no  charms  ;  when  good  actions 
can  no  longer  animate  and  delight ;  then  has  the  soul  lost  its 
dignity  and  its  strength  ;  then  is  the  rational  being  fast  hast- 
ening to  decay;  then  is  it  time  to  remember  that  these  things, 
also,  are  but  vanity. 

Among  other  objections  to  dissipation,  it  will  be  found  to 
proceed  from  erroneous  notions  of  pleasure :  if  it  necessarily 
involved  any  struggle  between  duty  and  gratification,  it 
would  be  more  easily  understood  why  the  latter  so  often 
triumphed  over  the  former  consideration ;  but  the  most 
dissipated  men  are  the  first  to  complain  of  the  dullness  and 
sameness  of  the  pleasures  they  pursue ;  they  cannot  quit 
what  they  do  not  love  ;  they  are  wearied,  but  have  no  asy- 
lum ;  wisdom  and  virtue  are  not  to  be  recalled  at  pleasure  ; 
there  is  no  retreat ;  they  are  doomed  to  be  irrevocably  frivo- 
lous, to  trifle  on  to  the  brink  of  the  grave,  though  conscience 
whispers  at  every  step,  this  is  not  pleasure  ;  it  was  not  for 
this  that  man  was  made  after  the  image  of  his  God. 

How  changed  is  our  estimation  of  all  worldly  things,  when 
sober  experience  awakens  us  from  the  dreams  of  youth. — 
We  begin  with  expecting  to  find  in  the  common  circle  of 
ordinary  amusement,  every  brilHant  and  every  fascinating 
quality  of  our  nature  ;  we  enjoy,  in  anticipation,  the  pictures 
of  fancy,  the  delight  of  eloquence,  the  surprise  of  wit,  the 
charm  of  courtesy,  the  union  of  joyous  hearts  and  creative 
minds. — What  is  it  we  do  meet  ?  too  often  a  weariness  of 
15 


170  ON  DISSIPATION. 

life  ; — too  often  the  escaping^  from  a  man's  own  heart ; — too 
often  that  melancholy  dejection,  which  says,  "  I  have  no 
pleasure  in  doing  this,  but  I  have  no  courage  to  do  better 
than  this."  How  different  from  this  species  of  society  is  that 
wise,  necessary,  but  occasional  intercourse  with  our  fellow- 
creatures,  which  is  founded  upon  mutual  regard ;  which  is  a 
contrast  with  previous  soHtude,  or  a  relaxation  from  previous 
toil ;  where  there  is  some  real  commerce  of  understanding, 
and  some  real  gratification  of  regard  ;  where  melancholy  is 
dispelled,  cheerfulness  promoted,  friendship  confirmed,  pre- 
judice refuted,  or  reason  sanctioned  in  her  decisions :  and 
yet,  how  httle  of  such  pure  and  innocent  pleasure  does  it 
fall  to  our  lot  to  enjoy.  Do  you  ask  me  why?  this  is  the 
reason  ;  and  I  would  it  were  as  easy  to  find  a  cure  as  a 
cause  :  because  our  minds  are  unexercised,  and  our  hearts 
are  not  overflowing  with  the  recollections  of  benevolence 
gratified,  and  passion  subdued ;  because  we  have  not  courage 
for  the  toil,  which  is  to  make  the  relaxation  sweet,  because 
the  love  of  admiration  governs  us,  because  we  know  not  that 
the  very  essence  of  pleasure  is  rarity,  that  it  is  impossible, 
from  the  very  constitution  of  our  nature,  to  preserve  the  keen- 
ness of  first  sensations,  or  to  prevent  that  apathy  into  which 
the  mind,  jaded  with  constant  enjoyment,  perpetually  sub- 
sides.— Let  no  one  imagine  that  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  lay 
aside  the  habits  of  dissipation  at  will ;  a  valuable  and  syste- 
matic employment  of  time  is  acquired  with  difficulty,  and, 
to  be  acquired  at  all,  should  be  soon  begun.  An  industrious 
manhood  is  rarely  grafted  on  a  youth  of  folly ;  but  a  youth 
of  folly  will  still  keep  you  young,  though  you  have  numbered 
many  days ;  and  a  hoary  head  will  surprise  you  in  the  midst 
of  youthful  gratification  and  frivolous  amusement ;  yet,  there 
is  a  time,  when  retirement  is  comely  and  decent ;  at  which, 
not  only  the  dictates  of  reason  and  religion,  but  even  the 
opinions  of  the  world  require  it ;  there  is  a  time,  when  you 
should  carry  gray  hairs,  and  paleness,  and  weakness,  into 
the  midst  of  those  whose  love  will  support  your  declining 
years,  when  you  should  grow  old,  and  die  in  the  bosom  of 
your  family  ;  when  you  should  spare  to  your  fellow-creatures 
the  melancholy  spectacle  of  irreverent  old  age,  of  levity  with- 
out joy,  of  infirmity  without  wisdom :  blessed  is  the  hoary 
head,  which  is  found  in  the  paths  of  wisdom ;  but  no  blessings 
fall  on  him  who  has  grown  old  without  growing  wise,  and 


ON  DISSIPATION.  J71 

has  gathered  nothing  from  the  lapse  of  years  but  the  outward 
symbols  of  decay. 

One  of  the  most  obvious  consequences  of  dissipation  is  the 
destruction  of  all  the  mental  powers.  In  men  upon  whom 
the  greater  part  of  the  business  of  the  world,  and  the  advance- 
ment of  knowledge  principally  depend,  this  evil  is  the  most 
inexcusable ;  there  is  no  character  which  ensures  disrespect 
so  much  as  that  of  a  trifling,  frivolous  man ;  he  is  measured 
by  the  magnitude  of  those  objects  which  form  the  laudable 
pursuits  of  his  sex ;  we  cannot  forget  the  height  of  science 
to  which  he  might  have  ascended ;  the  useful  functions  he 
might  have  fulfilled ;  the  career  of  glory  he  might  have  run ; 
the  rehgious  wisdom  he  might  have  treasured  up.  He  has 
no  excuse  in  a  natural  indelible  mildness  of  character,  which 
may  betray  the  firmness  of  resolution  and  communicate  a 
greater  force  to  the  social  feelings ;  he  sins  against  the  most 
exalted  and  popular  qualities  of  a  man  without  gaining  any 
others  in  return  ;  he  is  trifling  without  being  amiable  ;  weak 
without  being  delicate ;  and  ignorant  without  being  affection- 
ate or  humane.  Neither  let  any  shelter  themselves  under 
the  plea  that  dissipation  does  not  sacrifice  that  time  which 
ought  to  be  given  up  to  more  important  occupations  ;  rehgion 
bids  us  all  prepare  for  an  hereafter;  benevolence  bids  us 
alleviate  the  miseries  of  the  present  scene  ;  knowledge  invites 
us  to  contemplate  and  understand  it :  the  first  hallows  the 
mind,  the  next  softens  it,  the  last  strengthens,  exalts  and 
adorns  it.  To  love  religion  is  to  love  eternity  and  to  love 
salvation ;  but  to  love  knowledge  as  the  means  of  complying 
with  the  injunctions  of  that  religion  may  not  be  sufficiently 
impressed  upon  the  minds  of  us  all.  In  an  advanced  period 
of  society  it  is  the  most  eflTectual  preventive  against  the  perils 
of  idle  opulence ;  it  economizes  the  most  useful  possessions 
of  a  state,  its  talents ;  prevents  the  mournful  waste  of  genius 
and  turns  the  powers  of  our  minds  into  the  real  channels  in 
which  they  ought  to  flow. — Against  the  fair  and  moderate 
pursuit  of  pleasure,  I  hope  no  one  imagines  me  so  mistaken 
as  to  contend ;  the  love  of  knowledge  will  render  the  extrava- 
gant and  dissipated  pursuit  of  it  as  distasteful  as  it  is  perni- 
cious ;  nothing  frees  a  man  so  effectually  from  the  shameful 
dependence  on  foreign  aid,  and  renders  him  so  contented  with 
himself  and  his  own  home ;  he  is  no  longer  compelled  to  flee 
from  the  restless  activity  of  the  mind  to  a  circle  of  melancholy 
and  insipid  amusement.     This  is  not  all;   to  exercise  the 


172  ON  DISSIPATION. 

mind  is  a  duty,  it  is  an  essential  part  of  righteousness ;  the 
agency  upon  the  world,  the  power  of  doing  good  increases 
immensely  with  the  increase  of  our  intellectual  powers.  It 
matters  not  by  what  science,  by  what  studies  our  minds  are 
exercised,  if  they  be  ready  to  be  turned  on  the  conduct  of 
life,  the  interests  of  mankind,  and  the  promotion  and  defence 
of  rehgion.  Take,  for  instance,  the  task  of  early  education 
commonly  devolved  upon  mothers ;  is  there  one  of  greater 
importance  in  the  whole  circle  of  human  affairs  ?  and  what 
daily  ravages  are  committed  on  the  characters  of  future  men, 
by  affectionate  parents,  who  mean  to  do  well  without  any 
adequate  power  of  seconding  their  good  intentions,  and  who 
lament,  when  too  late,  that  they  wasted  in  dissipation  the 
season  of  improvement,  that  their  minds  have  never  been 
strengthened  by  difficulties,  or  fertihzed  by  thought. 

Dissipation  is  not  less  injurious  to  the  qualities  of  the 
heart  than  to  the  powers  of  the  mind.  The  dissipated  become 
impatient  of  anything  which  is  not  immediately  amusing; 
they  cannot  submit  to  the  present  sacrifice  which  virtue  re- 
quires, or  wait  for  the  remote  gratifications  which  it  affords. 
The  passing  moment  must  yield  its  tribute  of  pleasure  at 
every  expense  of  health,  fortune,  and  inward  satisfaction. — 
All  control  over  incHnation  is  gradually  lost,  and  the  appre- 
hension of  distant  consequences  ceases  to  influence  the  con- 
duct. Whenever  we  place  our  happiness,  not  in  the  good 
feelings  of  the  heart,  but  in  the  lively  impressions  of  the 
senses,  every  virtue  becomes  disgusting  and  dull;  the  child 
leaves  its  aged  parent  to  solitude  and  disease ;  the  mother, 
ashamed  of  her  advancing  years,  deserts  her  children. — The 
father  flies  from  the  gloomy  sameness  of  his  family,  and  every 
beautiful  feeling  is  erased  from  the  heart ; — the  appearance 
of  misery  excites  not  a  desire  to  reheve,  but  anger  at  the 
intrusion  of  disagreeable  sensations,  a  feeling  of  injury  at  the 
interruption  of  elegant  pleasure.  In  the  midst  of  these  plea- 
sures, in  the  full  current  of  thoughtless  joy,  I  pray  you  for 
one  moment  pause;  it  is  not  much  to  give  to  salvation,  to 
virtue,  and  to  wisdom;  for  one  moment  pause  and  think  on 
the  motley  destiny  of  man  ;  not  far  from  the  scenes  of  your 
joy  are  crowded  together  the  children  of  labour  and  sorrow, 
and  of  affliction  ;  did  you  ever  seek  that  cure  of  dissipation  ? 
Did  you  ever  appal  your  heart  ?  Did  you  ever  beat  down 
your  gayety  to  the  dust  by  the  near  aspect  and  approach  of 
the  misery  of  man  ?  not  such  as  it  is  painted  in  books,  but 


ON  DISSIPATION.  173 

such  as  you  may  find  it,  at  this  instant,  not  a  span's  length 
from  this  very  spot ;  dissipation  can  never  endure  such  tre- 
mendous sights  as  these ;  the  very  walls  seem  to  cry  out, 
why  have  you  forgotten  these  wretched  people  in  the  midst 
of  your  pleasures  ?  The  sight  of  a  poor  man's  dwelling,  the 
food  he  eats,  the  bed  on  which  he  lies,  these  things  scare 
and  admonish  the  voluptuous  heart  more  than  all  the  minis- 
ters of  God.  Yet  think  not  that  these  sights  destroy  plea- 
sure ;  they  are  the  only  passport  to  pleasure ;  first  deserve  it, 
then  enjoy  it ;  go  strengthen  infirmity,  heal  disease,  lighten 
the  load  of  human  misery,  pay  back  in  humanity  the  loan  of 
opulence,  then  say  to,  your  heart,  go  to  now,  enjoy  pleasure, 
I  will  prove  thee  with  mirth ;  and  then  only  you  will  escape 
the  sad  conclusion : — this  also  is  vanity. 

The  love  of  expense  is  not  one  of  the  least  miseries  conse- 
quent upon  dissipation ;  it  produces  meanness,  dishonesty, 
and  unhappiness;  the  mind  must  be  at  ease  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  virtue,  and  there  can  be  no  tranquillity  where  such  a 
constant  struggle  is  maintained  between  penury  and  ostenta- 
tion, where  everything  is  splendour  without  and  distress 
within,  where  the  world  is  to  be  deceived  and  the  melancholy 
reflection  supported,  that  the  means  of  solid  comfort  are  daily 
sacrificed  to  idle  and  unsubstantial  parade.  The  dictates  of 
common  sense  and  the  feelings  of  nature  are  never  violated 
with  impunity ;  the  most  intolerable  of  all  sensations  is  that 
of  constant  self-reproach ;  to  feel  that  days,  and  months,  and 
years  are  gliding  away  without  leaving  to  us  any  acquisition 
of  virtue  or  of  knowledge  ;  that  our  resolutions  of  amendment 
are  never  proof  against  temptation,  that  our  life  is  passing 
on  without  utility  to  others  or  dignity  to  ourselves  ;  this  is  the 
bitterness  of  soul  which  riseth  up  when  the  head  is  crowned 
with  flowers  and  the  wine  mantleth  in  the  cup ;  this  is  the 
handwriting  on  the  wall,  at  the  sight  of  which  the  spirit  of  a 
man  fainteth  within  him,  as  did  the  spirit  of  Belshazzar,  the 
king,  when  he  feasted  with  his  thousand  lords. 

Is  it  possible,  I  may  ask,  in  speaking  of  dissipation,  is  it 
possible  that  we,  who  are  daily  enlightened  by  the  sublime 
morality  and  perfect  example  of  Christ,  can  we  believe  that 
the  whole  order  of  nature  was  reversed,  and  the  stupendous 
prodigy  of  revelation  exhibited  to  the  earth,  to  clothe  with 
immortahty  a  wretched  being  that  has  trifled  away  seventy 
years  of  existence,  and  who  is  only  loosened  from  the  bonds 
of  folly  by  corruption  and  death  ?     Do  you  think  it  is  to  be 

15* 


174  ON  DISSIPATION. 

threescore  and  ten  years  of  mirth,  an  hour  of  repentance, 
and  an  eternity  of  joy  ?  By  what  courtesy  are  you  exempted 
from  the  curse  of  Adam  ?  Has  God  given  to  one  the  sweat 
and  the  toil,  and  to  another  the  smell  of  the  blossom,  the  sha- 
dow of  the  leaf,  and  the  taste  of  the  fruit  ?  This  life  is  to 
every  description  and  condition  of  human  beings,  a  life  of 
labour  and  exertion ;  of  labour  either  of  body  or  of  mind. 
The  labour  of  the  rich  is  to  combat  their  passions,  to  fortify 
their  virtues,  to  study  and  to  follow  the  law  of  the  Gospel,  to 
prepare  themselves  dihgently  for  another  and  a  better  state 
of  existence,  to  turn  their  leisure  to  the  cultivation  of  know- 
ledge and  the  improvement  of  human  happiness ;  to  take 
advantage  of  their  condition,  by  being  exemplary  as  they 
are  eminent,  courteous  as  they  are  elevated,  bounteous  as 
they  are  rich ;  by  making  themselves  the  protectors  of  the 
distressed  and  the  stewards  of  the  poor;  with  these  general 
habits  of  life,  there  are  times  when  a  wearied  mind  and  body, 
when  the  social  feelings,  when  reason  itself,  call  for,  and  jus- 
tify relaxation  and  joy ;  the  pleasures  of  the  good  are  as  dear 
to  God  as  their  prayers ;  he  is  with  them  in  the  house  of  joy 
and  in  the  temple  of  religion ;  he  is  in  the  midst  of  them 
wherever  they  are  gathered  together ;  through  him  they  are 
happy  without  fear  and  without  reproving,  and  while  they 
prove  their  hearts  with  mirth  they  are  not  compelled  to  add 
that  this  also  is  vanity  and  sorrow. 


■■^r 


SEEMON   XXV. 

ON  THE  CONVERSION  OF  SAINT  PAUL 


And  straightway  he  preached  Christ  in  the  synagogues,  that  he  is  the  son 
of  God.  But  all  that  heard  him  were  amazed,  and  said,  is  not  this  he 
that  destroyed  them  which  called  on  his  name  in  Jerusalem. — Acts  ix. 
VERSES  20,21. 

Of  all  the  arguments  dwelt  on  for  the  defence  of  Chris- 
tianity, none  have  been  more  forcibly  or  more  successfully 
urged,  than  the  conversion  of  St.  Paul ;  and  it  certainly  is  a 
circumstance  which  cannot  be  explained  without  the  suppo- 
sition of  something  improbable,  or  the  belief  of  something 
miraculous. 

The  treatment  which  Christ,  his  disciples,  and  his  converts 
experienced  from  the  Jews,  would  (if  other  proofs  were  want- 
ing), sufficiently  convince  us  of  the  obstinate  adhesion  of  that 
people  to  the  religion  of  their  ancestors,  and  demonstrate  how 
soon  their  watchful  jealousy,  on  such  a  subject,  would  break 
out  into  cruel  persecution.  The  Pagans  were,  upon  the 
whole,  not  merely  tolerant,  but  careless  in  matters  of  rehgion. 
Poets  vilified  their  gods  ;  comedians  ridiculed  them  upon  the 
stage  ;  philosophers  denied  their  existence  ;  the  priests  conti- 
nued to  sacrifice,  the  people  to  believe,  and  the  government 
was  content :  but  the  religion  of  the  Jews  was  deeply  fixed 
and  eagerly  defended.  It  was  their  creed  that  God  had  sin- 
gled them  out  from  the  whole  earth  as  the  people  of  his  pro- 
vidence and  protection ;  they  considered  themselves  as  sepa- 
rated from  the  darkened  hemisphere  of  the  Pagans ;  they 
believed  that  they  had  been  fed  by  angels,  guided  by  mira- 
cles, taught  by  prophets,  and  approached  by  God.  They 
were  proudly  mindful  of  these  distinctions  ;  they  studied  their 
law  with  active  investigation,  and  defended  it  with  ardent 


176  ON  THE  CONVERSION  OF  ST.  PAUL. 

zeal ;  proselytism,  therefore,  effected  among  a  people  of  this 
description,  is  certainly  more  important  as  to  the  proof  it 
affords,  than  any  ordinary  change  from  one  religion  to  an- 
other ;  the  stronger  the  resistance,  the  greater  the  force  which 
overcomes  it.  Prejudices  so  deeply  imbibed,  no  common 
power  can  eradicate,  and  no  usual  force  of  argument  refute. 

In  the  twenty-second  chapter  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
St.  Paul,  in  declaring  his  conversion,  thus  describes  himself: 
"  I  am  verily  a  man  which  am  a  Jew,  born  in  Tarsus  ;  and 
was  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  and  taught  according 
to  the  perfect  manner  of  the  law  of  the  fathers,  and  was  zeal- 
ous towards  God,  as  ye  all  are  this  day." 

St.  Paul,  therefore,  seems  to  have  been  a  man  thoroughly 
instructed  in  the  Jewish  law  ;  the  opinions  of  his  nation  were 
confirmed  by  the  tenour  of  his  education ;  and  belief  in  him 
was  not  merely  a  popular  opinion  caught  from  living  with  a 
multitude  who  were  of  the  same  creed,  but  an  extended  sys- 
tem, disciplined  by  regular  learning,  and  defended  with  scho- 
lastic acuteness.  The  pride  of  the  scholar  was  added  to  the 
bigotry  of  the  Jew,  and  he  would  resist  conviction  from  vanity 
as  well  as  from  faith. 

If  St.  Paul  had  remained  quiet,  at  the  first  propagation 
of  Christianity ;  if  he  had  taken  no  active  part  at  this  interest- 
ing period ;  if  he  had  viewed  its  progress  with  indifference ; 
if  he  had  suspended  his  conviction  till  the  sensation  of  novelty, 
too  active  for  reason,  had  subsided,  and  left  him  to  the  free 
exercise  of  his  understanding ;  we  could  not  have  been  so 
much  surprised  that  the  result  should  have  terminated  in  his 
conversion ;  but  from  the  first  appearance  of  Christianity,  he 
was  its  decided  foe ;  at  the  first  dawn  of  this  new  light  he 
rose  up  in  bitterness  and  in  anger,  to  extinguish  it ;  and  to 
bear  witness  that  it  was  from  men  and  not  from  God.  In 
the  above-mentioned  chapter.  Saint  Paul  says,  "I  persecuted 
this  way  unto  death,  binding,  and  delivering  into  prison,  both 
men  and  women ;  as  also  the  high  priest  doth  bear  me  wit- 
ness, and  the  estate  of  the  elders,  from  whom  I  received  let- 
ters unto  the  brethren,  and  went  to  Damascus  to  bring  them 
which  were  bound  unto  Jerusalem  for  to  be  punished."  And 
yet  this  is  he  whom  bondage  could  not  make  less  zealous, 
who,  under  all  varieties  of  misfortune,  and  in  every  species 
of  sorrow,  remained  steadfast  in  faith,  and  immovable  in  con- 
viction ;  who,  with  that  high-principled  courage  which  always- 
keeps  fortune  beneath  its  feet,  and  rises  superior  to  every' 


ON  THE  CONVERSION  OF  ST.  PAUL.  177 

event,  preached,  from  the  midst  of  guards,  and  swords,  and 
chains,  the  truths  of  the  Gospel ;  those  truths  which  shook 
the  heart  of  Felix  with  fear,  and  drove  Agrippa  to  the  hrink 
of  conversion.  This  is  the  fact  which  comes  home  to  the 
bosoms  of  men ;  this  is  the  history  which  represses  the  confi- 
dence of  infidelity,  and  breaks  the  slumber  of  indifference. 
The  enmity  of  St.  Paul  is  turned  to  protection  ;  the  bitterness 
of  persecution  is  exchanged  for  the  zeal  of  friendship ;  and 
he  is  made  an  humble  instrument  for  promoting  the  Gospel, 
whose  ardent  spirit  had  most  powerfully  impelled  him  to  its 
destruction. 

After  this  general  sketch  of  his  life  which  I  have  already 
quoted,  St.  Paul  proceeds  to  state  the  particular  circumstances 
of  his  conversion :  "  Whereupon,  as  I  went  to  Damascus  with 
authority  and  commission  from  the  chief  priests ;  at  mid-day, 
oh  king,  I  saw  in  the  way  a  light  from  heaven,  above  the 
brightness  of  the  sun  shining  round  about  me,  and  them 
which  were  with  me,  and  when  we  were  all  fallen  to  the 
earth,  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven."  And  he  then  proceeds 
to  relate  the  command  he  received  from  heaven ;  a  passage 
in  the  Scriptures  too  well  known  to  need  quotation. 

These  are  the  facts  respecting  the  conversion  of  St.  Paul, 
and  from  these  facts  it  must  follow  as  an  inevitable  conse- 
quence, (if  this  miracle  be  not  true,)  that  St.  Paui  deceived 
himself,  or  that  he  deceived  others ;  that  he  was  either  a  dupe, 
or  an  impostor.  We  will  first  inquire,  if  it  be  probable  that 
St.  Paul  endeavoured  to  impose  on  the  world  a  miracle  in 
which  he  himself  had  not  a  thorough  belief,  and  the  obvious 
mode  of  beginning  such  an  investigation,  will  be  to  examine 
into  the  motives  which,  under  any  rules  by  which  the  human 
character  ought  to  be  judged,  could  have  influenced  St.  Paul 
to  the  commission  of  such  a  despicable  fraud,  and  implicated 
him  in  such  a  shameless  piece  of  hypocrisy. 

I  beheve  it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  general  rule,  that  every 
man  will  love  that  which  is  virtuous  and  honourable  where 
he  can  gain  nothing  by  perfidy  and  vice.  No  man  is  bad 
for  nothing,  no  man  covers  himself  with  crimes,  from  a  mere 
lust  for  disgrace,  or  an  eager  relish  for  infamy;  self-approba- 
tion is  not  bartered  for  nothing  ;  every  human  being  naturally 
loves  the  praise  of  his  own  heart,  and  the  approbation  of  his 
fellow-creatures  ;  and  if  he  sells  them  at  all,  he  sells  them  for 
some  pleasure  that  is  poignant,  some  gratification  that  will 
repay  him  for  infamy  and  remorse. 
.    The  question  then  is,  what  motive  St.  Paul  could  have  had 


178  ON  THE  CONVERSION  OF  ST.  PAUL. 

to  sacrifice  the  consideration  in  which  he  was  held  by  his 
countrymen ;  to  expose  himself  to  ridicule  and  to  contempt, 
to  persecution,  to  poverty,  to  the  most  extreme  and  the  most 
varied  distress;  could  the  Christians  hold  out  to  him  any 
magnificent  temptations  ?  could  they  buy  him  by  the  gor- 
geous allurements  of  honour,  power  and  opulence  ?  alas,  what 
could  the  Christians  give  ?  begging  themselves  for  life,  for 
bread,  for  compassion  ;  flying  to  rocks  and  caverns  not  to  con- 
ceal crimes,  but  to  worship  that  Saviour  who  had  just  left  the 
earth ;  what  hopes  and  promises  could  they  hold  out  to  mer- 
cenary talents  and  venal  ambition  ?  The  persecuted  cannot 
protect ;  power  is  not  in  the  gift  of  poverty  ;  the  indigent  and 
afflicted  have  nothing  to  offer  but  a  share  in  their  misery : 
they  could  say  to  St.  Paul,  be  a  Christian  as  we  are ;  we  have 
not,  indeed,  much  of  worldly  honour  to  bestow  ;  but  you  may 
share  our  persecution ; — you  may  become  its  most  import- 
ant subject ; — you  may  be  the  leading  martyr  of  our  sect ;— -« 
you  may  be  a  more  illustrious  outcast,  a  more  splendid  victim, 
than  has  yet  graced  the  annals  of  our  misery.  You  may  live 
in  sorrow,  and  die  in  torture ;  this  must  have  been  the  lan- 
guage of  Christian  seduction,  and  these  the  irresistible  temp- 
tations which  worked  upon  St.  Paul,  to  prostitute  his  honour, 
and  desert  his  religion  ;  he  must  have  submitted  to  be  base, 
in  order  to  be  miserable  ;  he  must  have  waded  through  im- 
posture to  martyrdom,  and  thought  no  artifice  too  mean  to 
encounter  difficulty,  and  court  persecution. 

If  St.  Paul  did  not  believe  his  own  testimony,  but  was  im- 
posing on  mankind,  what  evidence  can  we  ever  hear  with 
confidence  and  conviction  ?  with  him  seems  to  rise  or  fall  the 
credibihty  of  all  human  assertion :  mere  words  we  may  per- 
haps mistrust :  the  sad  knowledge  of  man's  depravity  may 
justify  us  even  in  doubting  of  oaths,  and  allow  us  to  balance 
the  credibility  against  the  solemnity  of  the  assertion ;  but  he 
who  strengthens  his  testimony  by  his  misfortunes,  cannot  be 
any  longer  suspected ;  he  who  is  beaten,  and  shipwrecked, 
and  chained,  cannot  be  considered  as  the  martyr  of  obstinate 
fraud  ;  he  has  washed  off  every  stain  of  suspicion  by  his  blood, 
and  has  shown  in  the  noble  catalogue  of  his  woes,  the  heroic 
patience  of  conviction,  and  the  unshaken  courage  of  truth. 
Then,  again,  if  any  considerations  of  policy  had  influenced 
his  conduct,  he  would  have  softened  the  odium  of  apostasy 
by  the  gradual  dereliction  of  former  connections ;  but  observe 
the  singular  circumstances  of  his  conversion  ;  he  sets  out  for 
Damascus,  an  infidel  bloated  with  rage  and  yearning  for 


ON  TH«  CONVERSION  OF  ST.  PAUL.  17D 

blood :  his  errand  of  death  was  a  legal  one ;  he  bore  with  him 
those  credentials  of  cruelty  which  he  had  eagerly  sought  for, 
and  easily  obtained :  he  went  forth  the  accredited  minister  of 
Jewish  vengeance,  their  favourite  assassin,  amid  the  shoutings 
and  rejoicings  of  the  people.  So  he  went  forth  ;  how  did 
he  return  ?  with  a  heart  softened  by  sorrow,  and  bursting  with 
remorse,  lowly,  broken,  and  penitent;  not  the  minister  of 
Jewish  vengeance,  but  its  object ;  preaching  Christ,  and  la- 
menting with  tears  and  sighs,  the  infatuation  of  his  past  life  ; 
this  is  the  portentous  fact  which  vouches  so  strongly  for 
Christianity ;  here  it  is,  if  anywhere,  that  the  finger  of  God 
is  to  be  seen  in  our  religion. 

Let  us  now  consider  if  there  was  any  reason  to  believe 
that  St.  Paul  was  himself  deceived,  and  that  this  miracle,  in- 
stead of  a  real  revelation,  was  nothing  more  than  the  phan- 
tasm of  a  deluded  imagination. 

If  the  character  of  St.  Paul  were  such  as  to  justify  us  in 
this  supposition,  and  induce  us  to  believe,  that  a  mind  too  in- 
tensely heated  had  lost  all  wholesome  control  over  the  fancy ; 
the  difficulty  is  to  conceive  why  this  self-created  vision  did 
not  rather  model  itself  in  conformity,  than  in  opposition  to  the 
whole  former  tenour  of  his  words  and  actions.  If  his  miracle 
had  spurred  him  on  to  new  asperity,  and  fresh  bitterness 
against  the  Christians,  it  would  have  accorded  very  well  with 
the  usual  history  of  fanaticism  ;  and  the  extravagancies  of  his 
fancy  would  have  preserved  a  certain  affinity  to  his  ordinary 
ideas.  Madness  does  not  reverse  the  notions  which  a  mind 
in  health  intensely  dwells  upon,  but  points  them,  and  gives 
them  new  vigour.  It  does  not  struggle  against  the  tide  of 
the  conceptions  ;  but  hurries  that  tide  on  with  fresh  impetu- 
osity. St.  Paul,  a  visionary  and  a  madman,  Avould  have  hated 
the  Christians  worse  than  in  his  sober  mind ;  if  not,  I  will 
venture  to  assert,  that  it  is  the  only  instance  on  record  where 
an  enthusiastic  supposition  of  intercourse  with  heaven  has 
cured  fanaticism  instead  of  increasing  it,  and  to  suppose  such 
a  case,  is  to  decide  contrary  to  all  experience  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  depreciating  Christianity.  Is  there,  moreover,  any- 
thing in  the  character  of  St.  Paul,  after  he  became  a  Chris- 
tian, that  can  warrant  this  imputation  of  fanatical  derange- 
ment ?  Is  a  fanatic  observant  of  times  and  seasons  ?  Does 
he  bend  this  way  and  that  way  in  dexterous  fluctuation,  with 
the  little  prejudices  and  passions  of  men?  The  strongest 
feature  of  fanaticism  is  a  want  of  fine  perception,  an  ungovern- 


180       *   ON  THE  CONVERSION  OF  ST.  PAUL. 

able  and  monotonous  violence,  totally  unobservant  of  occa- 
sions. But  St.  Paul  at  Athens  makes  no  mention  of  the  Gos- 
pel, or  the  new  light,  or  Christ,  or  his  disciples,  or  Moses, 
or  the  Jewish  law;  he  addresses  them  in  a  strain  of  general 
and  exalted  eloquence  ;  quotes  their  own  poets  in  confir- 
mation of  his  opinions,  tells  them  he  was  come  to  make 
known  to  them  that  God  whom  they  ignorantly  worshiped, 
and  to  show  them  clearly  those  attributes  which  they  already 
adored  in  dark  piety,  and  revered  with  unenlightened  wonder. 
See  how  dexterously  he  avails  himself  of  the  state  of  parties 
in  the  Jewish  synagogue  ;  how  ably  he  pushes  on  the  waving 
faith  of  Agrippa,  how  he  kindles  into  seven-fold  eloquence, 
when  the  hope  of  reclaiming  that  illustrious  Pagan  flashes 
across  his  mind.  *'  King  Agrippa,  believest  thou  the  pro- 
phets ?  I  know  that  thou  behevest ;  and  Agrippa  said,  thou 
almost  persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian ;  then  said  Paul,  I 
would  to  God,  that  not  only  thou,  but  that  all  who  hear  me 
this  day  were  as  I  am,  saving  these  bonds." 

Here  then  I  will  stop,  and  recapitulating  the  plain  story 
that  has  been  told,  make  a  stand  for  Christianity.  At  the 
first  appearance  of  this  religion,  St.  Paul  declares  himself  its 
enemy,  and  becomes  the  bitter  persecutor  of  its  converts  ;  he 
solicits  and  obtains  permission  from  the  high  priest  to  root  it 
out ;  he,  on  a  sudden,  declares  his  belief  in  this  heresy,  fairly 
tells  the  Jews  he  has  been  converted  by  a  miracle ;  not  only 
believes  but  ardently  propagates  it ;  and  in  the  course  of  his 
reHgious  labours,  exposes  himself  to  every  possible  danger 
and  difficulty  that  human  nature  can  encounter.  The  infer- 
ences to  be  drawn  from  this  plain  history,  are  these,  that  that 
man  cannot  be  insincere  who  has  suffered  evils  worse  than 
death  for  what  he  believes  to  be  the  truth  ;  who  by  a  life  of 
pain  and  wandering,  of  anguish  and  labour,  has  borne  witness 
to  the  integrity  of  his  faith ;  that  that  man  cannot  be  a  weak 
man  who  has  carried  the  arts  of  successful  persuasion  through 
barbarous  and  through  civilized  men,  and  extorted  from  Pagan 
pride,  and  Pagan  power,  such  splendid  evidence  of  his  cogent 
arguments,  and  also  imposing  eloquence.  He  is  then  a  good 
man,  and  a  wise  man ;  and  as  he  is,  let  him  not  plead  and 
sufTer  in  vain:  let  not  his  long  labour,  and  his  illustrious  life 
be  lost  upon  us  ;  let  us  finish  what  Agrippa  began, — our  con- 
viction,—and  when  he  reasons  of  temperance,  and  righteous- 
ness, and  judgment  to  come,  let  us  do  more  than  Felix,  not 
only  tremble,  but  tremble  and  repent. 


'^Vi^k^-^lll^'4 


SERMON    XXVI. 

ON    TEMPTATION. 
PART  I. 

Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  spirit  into  the  wilderness,  to  be  tempted  of 
the  devil. — Matthew  iv.  verse  1. 

In  this  season  of  the  year,  when  we  are  reminded  of  our 
Saviour's  miraculous  temptation,  it  is  highly  expedient  that 
we  should  consider  those  perils  to  which  we  are  exposed  by 
the  great  deceiver  of  mankind  ;  who  offers  to  us  also  all  the 
pleasures  and  glories  of  the  world,  if  we  will  forget  the  Lord, 
our  God,  and  fall  down  to  the  worship  of  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness. Day  and  night  man  is  tempted  from  the  path  of  his 
salvation ;  and  on  each  side  stand  alluring  pleasures,  inviting 
him  to  destruction.  There  are  lust,  avarice,  and  ambition; 
the  great  sin  of  intemperance  ;  deep  servitude  to  this  world ; 
timid  apostasy,  that  corrupted  the  soul  of  Peter;  revenge,  that 
shed  the  blood  of  Abel;  cruelty,  that  sharpened  the  sword  of 
Herod  ;  falsehood  by  which  Ananias  fell ;  treachery,  that 
nailed  Jesus  to  the  cross.  The  soul  is  assailed  by  all  these 
powers  of  darkness,  and  no  man  will  ever  see  God,  who  has 
not  clad  himself  in  the  armour  of  righteousness,  and  walked 
unhurt  through  them  all  to  the  mountain  of  Calvary  ;  to 
finish  his  race  at  that  goal,  to  breathe  his  last  at  the  feet  of 
Christ. 

Let  him  among  us,  (say  the  Scriptures,)  who  would  avoid 
temptation,  think  meanly  and  humbly  of  himself.  The 
danger  that  is  to  be  averted,  must  be  well  known,  and  ratio- 
nally apprehended,  or  it  will  come  in  double  terror.  No 
confidence,  I  beseech  you,  in  the  strength  of  resolutions,  in 
the  solemnity  of  vows,  in  the  force  and  freshness  of  repent- 
16 


182  ON  TEMPTATION. 

ance ; — the  wind  scatters  chaff,  the  waves  toss  down  mounds 
of  sand  ;  passion  sweeps  before  it  the  oaths,  the  protesta- 
tions, the  resolves  of  men,  and  breaks  in  pieces  the  slender 
fabrics  of  his  soul.  Before  temptation,  we  are  more  than 
angels  ;  have  I  not,  (the  sinner  says,)  mourned  for  my  fault  ? 
am  I  not  weary  of  the  bondage  of  this  sin  ?  is  it  possible  that 
I  shall  be  tempted  once  more,  that  I  shall  forget  all  that  suf- 
fering has  taught  me,  all  that  I  have  learnt  from  dejection 
and  self-reproach  ?  Alas !  a  word,  a  sound,  a  sight  will  melt 
all  this  new  wisdom  into  air,  and  hurry  us  back  to  the  same 
station  of  sin  ;  again  we  shall  resolve,  again  feel  boldness 
and  pride  ;  again  learn  the  weakness  of  man's  nature,  again 
know  the  strength  of  sin,  and  again  feel  the  bitterness  of 
repentance. 

There  is  a  degree  of  fear,  however,  which  leads  to  despair; 
our  notions  of  the  power  of  sin  may  be  so  excessive  as  to 
make  all  resistance  appear  hopeless ;  but  the  holy  fear,  of 
which  I  am  speaking,  is  that  which  is  opposed  to  rash  con- 
fidence ;  a  fear  mingled  with  so  much  hope,  that  it  excites 
activity,  and  does  not  confound  judgment ;  a  fear  which 
discovers  the  whole  extent  of  the  danger,  without  magni- 
fying it  more  than  reality ;  and  distrusts  the  means  of 
opposing  sin,  without  distrusting  them  more  than  they 
ought  to  be  distrusted ;  distrusts  them  when  unaided  by 
grace,  when  unfounded  on  religion,  w^hen  unblest  by  God, 
when  purely,  and  entirely  human  ;  but  when  connected 
with  heaven,  when  sanctified  and  hallowed,  and  touched  by 
Christ,  then  sees  their  dignity  and  glory  ;  and  knows  they 
have  strength  to  trample  on  every  lust  and  passion  of  the 
flesh. 

Confidence  is  the  great  auxiliary  of  temptation  ;  if  we  say 
that  we  have  no  sin,  we  perpetually  deceive  ourselves,  and 
the  truth  is  not  in  us.  Profound  Christian  humility  is  the 
only  safeguard  of  virtue.  "  I  dare  not  so  much  as  lift  up 
my  eyes  to  that  allurement ;  I  dare  not  confide  it  to  my 
thoughts  ;  I  will  flee  from  it  into  the  bosom  of  the  deep, 
and  into  the  nethermost  parts  of  the  world  ;  if  God  save  me 
not,  I  am  lost,  for  of  myself  I  can  do  nothing — and  my  por- 
tion is  sin  ;" — so  think  the  just ;  thus  do  they  cry  unto  God 
in  their  prayers,  and  in  this  way,  by  fear  and  trembling,  are 
ihey  saved. 

I  beg  you  to  observe,  that  in  speaking  of  this  timid  appre- 
hension of  the  perils  of  temptation,  I  speak  rather  of  the 


ON  TEMPTATION.  18*3 

beginning  of  righteousness  than  of  its  very  advanced  and 
mature  state  ;  the  time  at  length  comes,  when  the  force  of 
temptation  is  diminished,  and  the  power  of  resistance  in- 
creased ;  and  this  fact  is  one  of  the  strongest  incitements  to 
resist  temptation,  that  the  difficulty  and  the  struggle  become 
every  day  less  intense,  till  righteousness  and  evangelical 
purity  appear  to  be  almost  habitual ;  we  see  in  the  perils  of 
the  flesh,  that  which  we  have  before  encountered  and  sub- 
dued ;  we  remember  the  former  protection  of  Heaven  ;  we 
resume  the  same  confidence  in  Christ ;  we  put  up  the  same 
prayer  ;  we  receive  for  our  aid  the  same  emanations  of  the 
divine  grace  ; — there  dwell  within  us  a  constant  courage, 
founded  upon  experience  of  the  efficacy  of  grace,  a  prone- 
ness  to  trust  in  God,  a  cheerful  and  invincible  hope.  "  Yea, 
though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I 
will  fear  no  evil ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  shall  comfort  me." 

At  first,  every  passion  of  the  flesh  seems  irresistible ;  if 
we  are  tempted  by  anger,  we  do  not  perceive  how  it  is  possi- 
ble to  remain  serene  ;  if  the  sweetness  of  revenge  invites  us, 
then  it  is  not  in  our  nature  to  forgive  ;  but  the  true  servant 
of  Christ,  who  has  begun  this  good  exercise,  who  has  often 
prayed  against  temptation,  and  praying  often  subdued  it ; 
who  has  carried  the  old  man  forth  to  funeral,  with  the  solemn 
tears  of  repentance,  and  buried  him  in  the  grave  of  Jesus, 
and  put  on  the  new  man,  a  new  heart,  a  new  understanding, 
new  affections,  and  excellent  appetites  of  Heaven  ;  he  can  be 
tempted  by  anger,  and  remain  in  peace  ;  he  can  be  injured, 
and  forgive  ;  he  can  look  upon  intemperance,  and  be  frugal ; 
he  can  witness  successful  violence,  and  be  just ;  beauty  to 
him  is  marble,  riches  dross,  power  vanity,  ambition  toil ; 
the  freedom  of  righteousness  and  the  law  of  Christ  are  to 
him  all  in  all ;  for  these  he  has  vanquished  every  temptation, 
broken  asunder  the  massive  chains  of  sin,  and  walks  hence- 
forward with  God,  in  perfect  freedom,  and  with  joyful  hope. 

There  is  a  practice  which,  for  the  resistance  of  temptation, 
cannot  be  too  much  inculcated,  and  that  is  the  practice  of 
seeing  things  in  their  true  nature,  and  calling  them  by  their 
right  names.  If  we  serve  Mammon  instead  of  God,  we  must 
abide  the  consequences  of  that  faith  we  have  espoused  ;  but 
do  not  let  us  call  those  things  of  Heaven  which  belong  to 
Mammon,  or  those  things  of  Mammon  which  belong  to  God  ; 
if  an  action  is  sinful,  and  unchristian,  at  least  convince  your- 
self that  it  is  sinful,  and  call  it  by  the  name  of  sin  ; — if  you 
are  led  away  by  temptation  to  do  that  which  is  injurious  to 


184  ON  TEMPTATION. 

temporal  and  eternal  welfare,  state  the  fact  to  your  own 
understanding  in  the  truest  colours,  and  the  plainest  words  ; 
it  is  your  only  chance  of  recovery,  your  only  hope  of  return- 
ing to  the  true  shepherd  of  your  souls  ;  if  we  use  the  lan- 
guage of  the  world,  if  we  cast  a  veil  over  the  eye  of  piety, 
if  with  accommodating  phrases  and  plausible  pretexts,  we  seek 
to  call  that  righteousness  which  is  sin  ;  to  say  that  is  innocent 
which  the  warning  voice  of  our  Saviour  has  forbidden  ;  we 
are  then  doomed  to  hopeless  destruction,  and  not  to  perish 
eternally  becomes  impossible. 

If  this  plain  deahng  with  ourselves  deprives  us  of  any 
comfort  at  all,  it  is  of  a  very  ambiguous,  and  imperfect  com- 
fort ;  we  may  set  conscience  to  sleep,  but  the  sleep  of  con- 
science is  never  sound  ;  she  seems  to  sleep  in  agony,  and  in 
pain  ;  and  often  starts  up  in  wildness  and  distrust ;  the  decep- 
tion which  a  sinner  practices  upon  himself,  is  but  an  half 
deception,  a  rude  and  unskilful  art ;  he  is  perpetually  review- 
ing, and  appealing  from  his  own  decisions,  and  sees  dimly 
and  distantly  the  fraud  which  he  has  exercised  upon  his 
soul,  without  daring  to  throw  upon  it  the  meridian  light  of 
truth  ;  we  may  deceive  ourselves  enough  to  insure  the  com- 
mission of  sin,  but  not  enough  to  acquire  the  comforts  of 
righteousness  ;• — in  cultivating  this  inward  sincerity,  we  give 
up  a  system  of  fraud,  the  peril  of  which  is  immeasurable, 
and  in  the  consolation  of  which  it  is  not  wise  to  place  a  mo- 
ment of  firm  dependence  ;  it  is  not  possible  to  combine  together 
the  pleasures  of  sin  and  the  quiet  of  righteousness  ;  but  if  we 
are  wicked,  we  must  be  miserable. 

Then  there  must  be  no  treaty  entered  into  with  the 
tempter ;  no  parley,  no  doubt,  no  lingering  explanation,  but 
clear  denial,  indicating  calm  and  invincible  resistance ;  for  in 
this  way  the  souls  of  men  are  lost  to  salvation  ;  it  seems  inno- 
cent to  listen,  it  is  no  crime  to  hear  what  the  thing  is ;  I  can 
always  deny,  I  can  always  retreat ;  I  am  still  master  of  my 
own  actions.  But  this  is  an  error,  for  you  cannot  deny  or 
retreat,  but  at  the  first  pause  you  were  lost,  and  sin  and  death 
marked  you  for  their  own ;  it  is  madness  to  combat  Avith  the 
eloquence  of  sin,  or  to  gaze  at  the  pictures  of  passion;  if  you 
dispute  with  pleasure  she  will  first  charm  you  to  silence, 
then  reason  you  to  conviction,  then  lead  you  utterly  from 
God  ;  she  wants  you  only  to  hear  and  see ;  she  requires  only 
one  moment's  pause  ;  she  knows  if  you  can  balance  for  a  point 
of  time,  between  her  present  rapture  and  the  distant  felicity 
of  Heaven,  that  you  are  quite  gone  ;  you  must  meet  tempta- 


ON  TEMPTATION.  '  1^ 

tion  with  blind  eyes  and  deaf  ears,  and  with  a  heart  which 
no  more  balances  whether  it  shall  be  virtuous,  than  it  does 
whether  it  shall  send  the  blood  of  life  through  all  the  extre- 
mities and  the  channels  of  the  bodily  frame. 

One  of  the  great  instruments  for  withstanding  temptation, 
and  changing  our  whole  nature  into  a  state  of  grace,  is  a  firm 
behef  in,  and  perfect  assent  to  the  promises  of  the  Gospel, 
for  holy  Scripture  speaks  great  word  concerning  faith.  It 
quenches  the  fiery  darts  of  the  devil,  saith  St.  Paul:  it  over- 
comes the  world,  saith  St.  John ;  it  is  obedience,  it  is  humi- 
lity, it  is  a  shield,  a  breast-plate,  a  mystery ;  by  faith  God  is 
pleased  ;  by  faith  we  are  sanctified  ;  by  faith  we  are  saved  ; 
by  it  our  prayers  shall  prevail  for  the  sick  ;  by  it  all  the  mira- 
cles of  the  church  have  been  done ;  it  gives  great  patience  to 
suffer  ;  it  inspires  mighty  confidence  to  hope  ;  it  communi- 
cates strength  to  perform ;  it  imparts  infallible  certainty  to 
enjoy;  but  then  it  is  not,  we  must  observe,  a  notion  or  opinion 
situated  finally  in  the  understanding,  but  a  principle  produc- 
tive of  holy  life;  not  only  a  believing  in  the  propositions  of 
Scripture,  as  we  believe  a  proposition  in  science,  for  which 
we  are  neither  the  better  nor  the  worse,  but  a  belief  of  things 
so  great,  that  no  man  who  can  think  and  choose,  who  can 
desire  and  act  towards  a  definite  object  that  can  possibly 
neglect  them;  this  faith  which  justifies  the  faithful,  confirms 
the  just  and  crowns  the  martyr  ;  this  faith  it  is,  which,  plac- 
ing us  above  the  temptations  of  the  world,  will  make  heaven 
the  end  of  our  desires;  God,  the  object  of  our  worship  ;  the 
Scriptures  the  rule  of  our  actions ;  and  the  Holy  Spirit  our 
niighty  counsellor  and  assistant. 

Faith  in  Christ,  such  as  I  have  described  it  to  be,  is,  above 
all  things,  likely  to  afford  to  us  the  comfort  of  general  rules  ; 
to  give  to  the  inward  mind  the  benefit  of  good  laws  firmly 
administered,  the  comfort  of  planning  a  wise  system,  and 
pursuing  it  steadily,  for  the  misery  of  yielding  incessantly  to 
temptation  is,  that  we  live  upon  no  plan,  and  to  no  certainty ; 
we  do  not  advance  to  a  point,  but  wander  to  and  fro,  ignorant 
to-day  whether  we  are  to  be  good  or  bad  to-morrow ;  whether 
we  are  to  crawl  in  the  dust  of  this  world  or  to  act  with  the 
purity  of  an  angel ;  but  is  it  not  mean  and  degrading  to  say, 
I  shall  spend  this  day  rationally  and  piously  if  I  am  spared 
by  all  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  ;  but  if  I  am  tempted  by  any  appe- 
tite, or  goaded  by  any  passion,  my  piety  will  be  dissipated, 
and  my  reason  destroyed ;  whether  I  am  the  servant  of  righte- 

16*     • 


186  •  ON  TEMPTATION. 

ousness  or  the  child  of  sin,  depends  upon  the  accidents  of  the 
hour,  upon  whom  I  see,  and  what  I  hear,  and  upon  all  that 
comes  in  contact  with  me.  I  take  from  every  passing  event 
those  inward  principles,  though  I  ought,  with  my  inward 
principles,  to  impart  their  character  and  complexion  to  all  the 
events  of  life. 

The  general  rule  which  guards  us  against  temptation,  must 
be  laid  down,  and  in  time  it  will  come  to  be  regarded  on  its 
own  account ;  many  things,  in  themselves  innocent,  will  be 
avoided  on  account  of  their  influence  upon  the  rule ;  many 
things  which  might  be  omitted,  will  be  done  for  its  preserva- 
tion ;  what  we  love  long  for  its  utihty,  we  love  at  last  for 
itself;  the  rule  which  has  often  guarded  us  from  sin,  which 
has  saved  us  from  the  shame  of  inconsistency  and  relapse, 
becomes  at  last  sanctified  and  enshrined  in  our  minds ;  we 
guard  it  with  jealousies,  we  encompass  it  about  with  nice 
feelings,  we  watch  it  with  lively  apprehensions,  we  remove 
from  it  all  distant  harm  and  contingent  inconvenience ;  we 
love  it,  and  glory  in  it,  and  preserve  it,  as  the  children  of 
Israel  preserved  the  ark,  and  the  seraphim  kept  the  gates 
of  Paradise. 

But  above  all  things,  however  often  we  may  be  tempted, 
and  however  we  may  yield  to  temptation,  we  must  beware 
of  despair ;  we  must  never  cease  to  resist,  never  beheve  that 
God  has  made  the  appetites  of  the  body  irresistible,  and  swim 
down  at  once  in  the  full  torrent  of  sin  from  a  conviction  that 
it  cannot  be  stemmed.  For  every  temptation  with  which  we 
can  be  tempted  in  this  world,  in  whatever  sbape  of  allurement 
it  may  come,  there  is  a  power  within,  given  to  us  by  Almighty 
God,  greater  and  mightier  than  the  temptation ;  we  have 
reason  to  discern  between  evil  and  good  ;  we  can  look  fonvard 
and  discern  that  good  and  evil  in  remote  periods  of  time ;  we 
have  freedom  to  resolve  ;  we  have  revelation  to  teach  us  what 
to  resolve  ;  we  have  laudable  pride  to  animate  us  in  guarding 
that  resolve ;  we  have  shame  to  prevent  us  from  its  infringe- 
ment, and  we  have  the  grace  of  God  and  his  protecting  spirit 
to  sanctify  all  the  good  that  we  intend.  Therefore,  we  will 
begin ;  the  terror  of  sin  will  be  lessened,  its  triumphs  dead- 
ened, and  its  strength  withered  away ;  success  will  be  remem- 
bered ;  one  victory  will  ensure  another ;  we  shall  meet  temp- 
tation, accustomed  to  overcome  it,  with  the  full  aAd  certain 
conviction,  that  the  Saviour  of  mankind  never  deserts  the 
humble  and  contrite  spirit,  that,  in  the  hour  of  peril,  pours 
forth  his  fervent  prayer  to  hinit 


•i|^=- 


SERMON    XXVII. 

ON  TEMPTATION. 
PART  II. 

Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  spirit  into  the  wilderness,  to  be  tempted  of 
the  devil. — Matthew  iv.  verse  1. 

In  my  last  discourse  upon  this  subject,  I  took  occasion, 
from  some  preliminary  observations  upon  the  miraculous 
temptation  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  to  introduce  and  discuss 
the  subject  of  temptation,  considering  it  to  be  a  subject  pecu- 
liarly vsrell  adapted  to  the  sacred  season  of  the  year  at  which 
we  are  arrived,  a  season,  which  it  has  ever  been  the  practice 
of  the  church,  in  all  ages,  to  observe  with  peculiar  solemnity, 
and  to  dedicate  to  the  examination  of  subjects  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  salvation  of  mankind.  I  found  it  impossible 
to  do  justice  to  so  extensive  a  topic  of  religion  in  the  compass 
of  a  single  discourse,  and  therefore,  with  the  good  leave  and 
permission  of  my  congregation,  I  will  now  proceed  with  my 
observations  and  conclude  them.  I  shall  first  go  on  to  specify 
those  general  habits  of  mind  which  are  eminently  useful  for 
the  withstanding  of  temptation. 

I  have  before  stated,  how  very  important  towards  this  object 
is  an  attachment  to  general  rules,  but  these  general  rules,  in 
order  to  be  kept,  must  be  moderate ;  they  must  contain  all 
that  the  Gospel  requires,  but  no  more  than  the  Gospel  re- 
quires ;  they  ought  by  no  means  to  exclude  the  innocent  plea- 
sures of  life,  or  to  throw  an  air  of  crime  over  any  system 
of  actions  which  our  blessed  Saviour,  as  wise  as  he  was 
holy,  has  left  opeu  to  the  tastes  and  inclinations  of  mankind. 
There  are  some  men  who,  with  the  best  possible  intentions, 
would  diminish,  to  the  narrowest  circle,  the  extent  of  human 


188  ON  TEMPTATION. 

enjoyments,  and  drive  their  fellow-creatures  to  the  contem- 
plation of  another  world,  by  rendering  this  as  tasteless  and 
uninteresting  as  possible.  These  lessons  of  severity  are 
the  mere  inventions  of  man,  not  the  wisdom  of  God ;  we 
hear  them  from  mistaken  zeal ;  we  do  not  read  them  in 
the  Gospel ;  innocent  pleasure  is,  on  the  contrary,  a  very 
great  security  against  sinful  pleasure.  By  taking  that  good 
which  Almighty  God,  in  his  benevolence,  has  allowed  us, 
we  do  not  feel  deprived  of  everything  ;  we  are  often  en- 
couraged to  stop  there  by  dint  of  exertion,  often  content  to 
stop  there  without  any  exertion  at  all ;  but  when  we  deny 
ourselves  those  gratifications  we  may  righteously  enjoy,  we 
become  weary  of  exaggerated  duties,  and  listen  to  the  seduc- 
tions of  the  tempter  from  finding  the  burthen  of  false  righte- 
ousness greater  than  we  have  strength  to  endure  ;  in  seeking 
to  be  more  than  righteous,  we  become  less  and  are  plunged 
into  real  sin,  because  we  are  too  scrupulous  to  avail  ourselves 
of  permitted  enjoyment.  I  speak  this  against  rash  vows, 
overstrained  and  heated  resolutions,  needless  self-affliction, 
dread  of  happiness  and  all  that  innumerable  train  of  evils, 
which  false  notions  of  rehgion  entail  upon  mankind.  God 
asks  not  of  us  such  sacrifices  as  these ;  they  have  no  grateful 
smftll  before  him,  he  rejects  them  as  he  rejected  the  offerings 
of  Cain  ;  but  the  great  enemy  of  us  all  wishes  to  see  this,  and 
loves  it,  and  knows  when  he  can  make  a  man  believe  that  God 
is  one  thing,  and  happiness  another,  that  the  soul  of  that  man 
is  his  own,  that  the  angels  have  lamented  over  him  in  Hea- 
ven, that  he  is  lost  to  Christ.  Here  am  I  placed  (a  man 
says),  in  this  dull  servitude,  dead  to  all  joy,  combating  for- 
ever with  my  soul,  goaded  by  appetites  which  I  must  not 
gratify,  surrounded  with  pleasures  which  I  must  not  approach, 
restrained  by  commandments  too  rigorous  for  the  infirmities 
of  my  nature,  the  member  of  a  religion  which  overwhelms 
me  with  present  misery,  and  promises  me  future  pleasure  ; 
the  inhabitant  of  a  world,  in  which  I  am  placed  only  to  be 
allured  and  to  be  denied.  All  these  feelings  are  the  offspring 
of  a  false  and  overacted  severity,  and  the  parents  of  the  foul- 
est and  most  abominable  sin.  What  our  Saviour  instructs 
us  to  do  is  arduous,  not  impossible ;  but  it  is  very  easy  for 
human  errors  to  render  it  impossible  ;  then  cry  up  to  Heaven, 
to  blame  God,  to  say  it  is  too  much,  to  take  up  the  wages  of 
sin  and  to  perish  eternally. 

It  will  diminish  our  extravagant  notions  of  the  strength  of 


ON  TEMPTATION.  189 

temptation,  by  observing  that  we  are  all  proof  against  some 
temptations,  and  that  these  some  are  all  different ;  intempe- 
rance is  your  sin  and  it  is  irresistible ;  you  cannot  conceive 
how  such  allurements  can  be  withstood,  but  you  are  not  sub- 
ject to  gusts  of  passion  and  can  command  yourself  upon  the 
fiercest  provocation;  another  man  is  a  slave  to  irascible  feelings 
and  a  master  of  sensual  appetites  ;  this  person  is  tempted  by 
depraved  ambition,  and  wholly  exempted  from  every  taint  of 
avarice ;  the  next  would  Hve  cheerfully  in  obscurity  and  is 
only  desirous  of  accumulating  wealth.  It  is  quite  certain  that 
you  find  many  temptations  easy  to  be  overcome,  which  to 
others  are  highly  formidable ;  that  others  find  those  wholly 
insignificant,  which  are  formidable  to  you ;  all  sin,  then,  may- 
be overcome  by  the  grace  of  Heaven  and  by  the  good  princi- 
ples of  our  nature  ;  there  is  no  one  temptation  so  strong  but 
that  you  may  see  it  in  the  minds  of  some  men  completely 
subdued  and  utterly  disregarded;  there  is  novice  which  must 
necessarily  and  certainly  subdue  religious  firmness  ;  but  the 
event  depends  upon  how  much  we  struggle  and  how  long ; 
we  may  obey  or  command,  we  may  live  in  the  bondage  of 
Satan  or  the  freedom  of  God. 

It  is  a  great  matter,  also,  in  temptation,  not  only  to  gather 
the  powers  of  our  minds  for  resistance  from  the  daily  and 
common  evidence  which  our  nature  affords ;  but  to  search 
diligently  the  Scriptures  for  the  many  examples  of  chosen 
men,  who,  placed  in  situations  of  mortal  peril,  have  kept  their 
souls  in  all  purity,  spotless,  untempted  and  above  the  world. 
The  fear  of  death  could  not  keep  Daniel  from  his  worship,  nor 
stop  Paul  from  his  way  to  Jerusalem,  nor  tempt  the  weary 
David  to  drink  of  the  water,  nor  cause  Shadrack  to  fall  down 
to  the  idol.  Every  apostle  was  tempted  to  deny  his  crucified 
Saviour,  tempted  by  perils  of  sea  and  land,  by  the  weariness 
of  journeying,  by  the  cruelty  of  barbarous  people,  among 
whom  they  sojourned,  by  monstrous  and  unheard-of  torments; 
we  deem  that  we  are  soon  arrived  at  the  extremities  of  our 
nature ;  we  can  neither  bear  ridicule,  nor  look  at  terror,  nor 
defy  pleasure ;  but  there  are  men  upon  record  who  shame  us 
out  of  these  narrow  hmits,  and  teach  us  the  true  bounds  and 
dimensions  of  our  nature  ;  who  have  acted  decently  in  the 
midst  of  every  pleasure,  who  have  acted  bravely  in  the  midst 
of  every  danger,  and  with  inflexible  duty  to  God,  in  the  midst 
of  ridicule,  outrage  and  scorn.  These  men  are  our  masters 
and  our  examples  ;  upon  their  model  we  must  form  ourselves 


190  ON  TEMPTATION. 

in  the  great  work  of  pleasing  God  and  saving  our  souls  from 
the  destruction  of  sin. 

Much  of  our  success  in  this  great  warfare  depends  upon  the 
general  views  we  take  of  the  temptations  to  which  we  are 
exposed;  temptations  must  by  no  means  he  considered  as 
needless  difficulties;  there  are  other  views  of  this  matter  which 
are  the  true  and  just  views;  if  any  man  will  show  in  the 
Gospel  any  one  prohibition  to  any  one  action,  which  action  is 
neither  injurious  to  him  who  does  it  nor  to  any  one  else  ;  then 
it  may  be  allowed  that  temptation  is  an  unnecessary  hardship; 
but  otherwise  it  is  plain  that  we  are  only  forbidden  to  do 
what  it  should  be  injurious  to  us  to  do ;  and,  therefore,  the 
first  rule  is  to  connect  together  resistance  of  temptation  with 
increase  of  happiness ;  to  perceive  that  we  are  only  enlarging 
our  conceptions  of  enjoyment  by  resisting  temptation  and  not 
pleasing  ourselves  for  the  moment  that  is  passing  by  at  the 
expense  of  the  years  that  are  to  come. 

The  next  rule  is  not  only  to  connect  resistance  of  tempta- 
tion with  happiness,  but  to  connect  it  with  immortal  glory, 
to  consider  it  as  a  mean  of  distinction,  an  occasion  of  doing 
something  more  difficult  and  meritorious  than  any  other  thing 
in  the  whole  world.  There  are  many  laws  of  the  Gospel 
which  prohibit  religious  pride ;  but  none  which  prohibit 
religious  ambition ;  it  is  not  lawful  to  glory  that  we  are  better 
than  other  men ;  but  it  is  quite  lawful,  it  is  quite  right,  it  is 
quite  evangelical  to  strive  to  become  so :  no  man  strives  too 
hard  to  outvie  others  in  extirpating  from  his  soul  the  seeds 
of  corruption,  in  mastering  his  own  nature,  and  in  sacrificing 
to  God  his  beloved  sins ;  no  hope  is  too  eager  for  this,  no  in- 
dustry too  perfect,  no  dedication  of  time  and  understanding 
too  absorbing,  too  exclusive  and  too  entire. 

It  is  quite  certain,  also,  that  after  the  first  efforts  of  temp- 
tation are  overcome,  the  occupation  of  bending  our  minds  to 
religious  obedience,  of  subjugating  our  inclinations  and  actions 
to  the  dictates  of  our  reason,  may  be  rendered  the  most  in- 
teresting of  all  human  occupations,  as  it  is  certainly  the  most 
important.  It  is  ever  to  be  remembered,  in  reflecting  on  these 
matters,  that  there  is  an  intimate  connection  between  virtues 
and  between  vices ;  that  one  virtue  fairly  established  in  the 
character,  will  probably  introduce  many  others,  that  one  sin 
corrupting  our  nature,  will  generate  and  nourish  many  other 
principles  of  corruption ;  so  that  in  conquering  and  completely 
subduing  any  species  of  temptation,  we  gain  a  double  bless- 
ing and  we  avoid  a  double  curse,  for  in  freeing  ourselves  of 


ON  TEMPTATION.  191 

the  sin,  we  not  only  are  clear  of  that  sin  but  clear  of  others, 
which  would  have  connected  themselves  with  it;  and  in  gain- 
ing the  opposite  virtue  we  gain  other  virtues  associated  with 
it.  He  who  withstands  the  sin  of  avarice,  withstands  the 
temptation  to  hardness  of  heart  and  callous  indifference  to 
human  misfortune ;  he  who  has  all  his  bodily  appetites  in 
perfect  command,  gains  sweetness  of  disposition,  a  love  of 
order  and  an  habit  of  self-command,  which  may  conduct  him 
to  every  sublimity  of  active  and  passive  righteousness  and 
make  him  the  chosen  servant  of  Christ.  This  last  observation 
is  addressed  particularly  to  those  who  imagine  they  can  in- 
dulge in  any  one  fault  and  stop  there ;  that  they  can  atone 
for  indulgence  in  a  darling  vice  by  abstaining  from  others  for 
which  they  have  less  inchnation ;  in  the  first  place  this  is  a 
mere  mockery  of  God,  that  an  epicure  may  give  himself  up 
to  sensuality,  if  he  keeps  clear  of  ambition  ;  or  a  meek  man 
sacrifice  his  pride  and  console  himself  by  fraud  and  false- 
hood; but  if  it  were  no  offence  against  religion,  it  would 
not  be  possible  to  gratify  any  one  single  sin  and  keep  our- 
selves clear  from  others ;  it  is  so  deadly  to  live  in  a  state  of 
disobedience  to  the  Gospel,  to  know  that  you  do  so  and  to 
continue  to  do  so,  that  there  is  no  evil  and  no  combination  of 
evils  which  may  not  be  expected  from  it ;  if  any  man  sees  in 
his  soul  one  speck  of  death  and  decay,  and  does  not  rush  to 
stop  it  with  all  the  resources  of  healing  righteousness,  it  will 
become  more  dark  and  more  deep  at  every  moment ;  it 
will  spread  over  all  his  counsels,  it  will  blacken  all  his 
thoughts,  it  will  put  on  the  genuine  signs  and  characteristics 
of  hell,  and  cut  him  off  for  ever  from  the  mercy  of  God. 

If  this  affinity  and  connection  of  sins  make  temptation  so 
terrible,  if,  for  these  reasons,  it  is  so  difficult  to  confine  our- 
selves to  any  one  error,  still  more  difficult  is  it  to  proceed  to 
a  certain  length  in  any  one  sin  and  to  stop  there ;  to  say  thus 
far  will  I  be  tempted,  and  no  farther;  and  when  I  have  sinned 
up  to  a  particular  point,  I  will  then  put  on  the  spirit  of  right- 
eousness and  resist ;  in  truth,  the  delicate  and  graduated  soft- 
ness of  doing  wrong  is  not  to  be  resisted  ;  when  the  first  step 
is  made,  the  descent  is  so  easy,  the  intervals  so  gentle,  the 
accommodation  so  happy,  the  contrivance  so  exquisite,  that 
we  are  far  advanced  down  before  we  are  thoroughly  aware  of 
having  begun ;  there  is  in  fact  but  one  spot  where  any  effect- 
ual resistance  is  ever  made,  and  that  is  at  the  very  beginning; 
if  we  give  way  there,  it  is  quite  certain  from  the  common 


193  ON  TEMPTATION. 

experience  of  life,  that  we  can  rarely  or  ever  return ;  and 
this  first  step  of  sin  is  not  what  we  commonly  suppose  it  to 
be,  action,  but  thought ;  nothing  which  outwardly  appears, 
but  something  which  inwardly  disposes ;  what  we  are  to  be- 
ware of  in  avoiding  temptation  is,  (as  our  blessed  Saviour 
tells  us,)  the  adultery  of  the  heart,  the  revenge  of  the  heart, 
the  malice  of  the  heart.  The  beauty  of  the  Christian  religion 
is,  that  it  does  not  wait  for  sin  till  it  is  strong  and  flourishing, 
but  roots  it  up  jiist  as  the  seed  is  bursting  into  its  pernicious 
life ;  it  carries  the  order  and  discipline  of  heaven  into  our 
very  fancies  and  conception,  and  by  hallowing  the  first  shad- 
owy notions  of  our  minds  from  which  actions  spring,  makes 
our  actions  themselves  good  and  holy. 

Prayer  in  all  temptation  is  ever  to  be  resorted  to,  for  it  is 
much  to  be  believed,  that  the  prayers  of  men,  humbly  and 
honestly  asking  of  their  Creator  the  means  of  doing  well,  are 
heard  favourably,  granted  abundantly,  and  remembered  eter- 
nally. 

I  have  thus,  to  the  best  of  my  abilities  and  from  the  humble 
hope  of  doing  good  in  this  and  the  preceding  discourse,  passed 
through  the  subject  of  temptation,  and  I  conclude,  by  remind- 
ing you  of  what  that  season  is  in  which  I  have  brought  this 
subject  before  you ;  a  season  in  which  the  anniversary  of  our 
Saviour's  death  is  now  nigh  at  hand ;  the  death  of  him  who 
lived  for  our  instruction  and  happiness,  who  expired  for  our 
salvation,  and  who  bequeathed  to  us,  at  his  death,  a  Gospel, 
which  has  diffused  more  gentleness,  more  goodness,  more  real 
happiness  among  mankind,  than  the  united  wisdom  of  the 
wisest  sages  could  ever  conceive  before  him;  in  addition, 
therefore,  to  all  other  motives  for  resisting  temptation,  we  have 
this, — not  to  render  vain  that  death  and  that  crucifixion ;  and 
after  the  greatest  of  all  beings  has  done  so  much  for  us,  not 
to  cast  away  his  mercy  and  frustrate  his  divine  goodness,  by 
ceasing  diligently  to  labour  for  our  own  salvation. 


SERMON  XXVIII. 

FOR    THE    HUMANE    SOCIETY 


Attd  now  I  exhort  you  to  be  of  good  cheer,  for  there  shall  be  no  loss  of 
any  man's  life  among  you. — Acts  xxvii.  verse  22. 

*I  CONSIDER  myself  as  fortunate  that  it  has  fallen  to  my  lot  to 
recommend,  from  the  pulpit,  the  establishment  of  an  humane 
society  in  this  neighbourhood  for  the  preservation  of  life ; 
because,  as  I  am  sure  from  the  benefits  it  will  confer,  that  it 
must  be  long  remembered  and  zealously  supported,  I  cannot 
but  be  pleased  to  connect  myself,  however  humbly  and  dis- 
tantly, with  that  which  I  believe  will  impart  happiness  and 
security  to  so  many  human  beings. 

I  dare  say  there  are  few  here  present  who  are  unacquainted 
with  the  great  progress  which  has  been  lately  made  in  the 
art  of  recovering  persons  apparently  dead ;  it  appears  from 
the  reports  of  the  society  established  in  London,  that  men 
have  been  restored  to  life  nearly  an  hour  after  every  sign  of 
animation  had  disappeared,  and  after  they  had  been  given 
up  by  common  observers  as  completely  dead ;  it  appears,  also, 
by  the  records  of  the  same  society,  that  under  their  exertions 
and  by  the  means  they  have  recommended,  more  than  three 
thousand  persons  have  already  been  restored  to  life  whose  pre- 
servation, but  for  the  skill  diffused  by  the  society,  would  have 
been  considered  as  impossible.  It  is  of  the  greatest  importance 
to  remember  this,  because  it  shows  the  enormous  extent  of 
those  accidents  which  are  fatal  to  life,  and  the  high  degree  of 
perfection  to  which  this  art  of  resuscitation  is  already  carried 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  at  Watford,  to  recommend  the  institution 
of  an  Humane  Society,  rendered  expedient  by  some  very  dreadful  acci- 
dents which  had  recently  occurred  there. 

17 


194  FOR  THE  HUMANE  SOCIETY. 

— four  thousand  human  beings  rescued  from  sudden  death. 
Let  any  man  of  common  humanity  reflect  upon  the  rapturous 
happiness  which  this  mercy  has  excited ;  the  tears  which  it 
has  dried  up ;  the  broken  hearts  which  it  has  healed ;  the 
tender  relations  of  life  which  it  has  restored ;  the  dreadful 
thoughts  of  everlasting  separation  which  it  has  spared ;  think 
of  this,  and  there  is  not  a  man  whose  heart  and  whose  under- 
standing would  not  urge  him  to  take  part  in  so  noble  and 
interesting  a  charity.  Four  thousand  human  beings  won, 
with  labour  and  difficulty,  from  the  grave ;  an  hour  of  war 
would  have  overwhelmed  twice  their  number,  so  easy  it  is 
to  destroy,  so  difficult  to  save  ;  God  be  thanked  that  this  latter 
is  our  task ;  that  while  all  Europe  is  again  rushing  into  arms, 
we  are  met  together  in  the  name  of  Christ  to  see  how  we 
can  increase  the  security  of  life  and  diminish  the  victory  of  the 
grave.- 

We  may  consider  such  sort  of  institutions  as  the  sure  signs 
of  the  prevalence  of  good  laws,  sound  morals,  and  of  a  gene- 
ral state  of  prosperity ;  it  is  not  so  much  an  object  that  there 
should  be  many  people,  as  that  those  who  are,  should  exist  in 
the  greatest  attainable  comfort,  and  be  exposed  to  the  least  pos- 
sible degree  of  peril  and  disturbance.  In  a  savage  state  man 
is  so  often  destroyed  by  the  sudden  excesses  of  passion,  and 
subjected  to  destruction  from  so  many  causes,  that  life  is 
there  of  less  consequence,  and  men  never  think  of  entering 
into  any  schemes  for  its  preservation.  In  poor  countries  no 
institutions  of  charity  can  flourish ;  the  attention  of  mankind 
cannot  rise  above  their  daily  wants  ;  and  though  life  may  be 
respected  by  their  habits  and  laws,  they  cannot  make  any 
considerable  sacrifices  for  its  preservation.  In  despotic  coun- 
tries it  is  not  life  in  general  which  is  of  importance,  but  only 
the  life  of  the  rich  and  great ;  there  are  countries  even  in 
Europe  where  a  plan  for  saving  the  lives  of  the  lowest  classes 
of  society  would  carry  with  it  an  air  of  ridicule  and  hyper- 
bole. Such  kind  of  institutions  can  only  exist  in  a  country 
where  a  just  administration  of  just  laws  has  made  the  life  of 
man  of  supreme  importance ;  they  can  only  take  place  in  a 
country  where  the  Christianity  in  its  best  form  is  universally 
difl^used ;  they  can  only  take  place  in  a  country  which  in- 
dustry has  raised  above  the  common  wants  of  life  and  which 
can  afl^ord  to  be  munificent  in  its  goodness  ;  such  an  attention 
to  human  Hfe  is  the  united  result  of  piety,  of  justice,  and  of 
opulence.  ^^, 


FOR  THE  HUMANE  SOCIETY.  195 

This  scheme  of  benevolence  has  also  a  peculiar  interest  as 
it  connects  itself  with  a  knowledge  of  the  human  frame,  and 
of  the  most  important  laws  by  which  it  is  regulated.  Let  no 
man  think  that  knowledge  ever  can  be  impious,  or  that  it  has 
any  other  limits  but  the  limits  of  possibility ;  whatever  secrets 
of  nature  man  can  discover,  he  is  permitted  to  discover; 
whatever  could  not  be  entrusted  to  him,  is  placed  beyond  his 
reach ;  his  efforts  may  be  fruitless,  but  they  cannot  be  criminal; 
for  it  is  only  by  experience  he  can  find  out  those  boundaries 
which  Providence  has  fixed  and  those  rewards  which  it  has 
assigned  to  his  labours.  It  may  happen,  then,  that  the  science 
which  this  charity  patronizes  may  be  yet  in  its  infancy ;  that 
it  may  have  new  resources  for  the  calamities  of  life ;  fresh 
consolation  for  the  bitterness  of  grief;  that  it  may  go  as  far 
beyond  the  present  art  of  resuscitation  as  that  art  exceeds 
what  was  believed  to  be  possible  in  the  times  which  preceded 
its  invention. 

It  must  be  remembered,  too,  whatever  be  the  degree  to 
which  this  art  is  carried  that  the  institution  of  an  humane 
society  in  this  neighbourhood  secures  the  practice  of  that 
art  in  its  utmost  present  perfection  ;  in  case  pf  any  dangerous 
accident  you  can  command  all  the  resources  which  mechani- 
cal or  medical  aid  can  supply ;  and  really  I  cannot  well  con- 
ceive what  an  unhappy  man  can  hereafter  say  to  his  heart, 
who,  when  such  a  mean  of  obviating  some  of  the  greatest 
calamities  of  life  is  placed  before  him ;  when  it  is  insisted 
upon  and  earnestly  pressed  upon  his  attention,  hears  it  with 
indifference,  or  rejects  it  as  frivolous  or  insignificant.  Can 
any  person  here  present  who  may  think  the  object  upon 
which  I  am  employed  to  be  trifling  and  inadequate  ?  can  any 
man  pretend  to  say,  before  another  Sunday  summons  him  to 
church,  that  he  may  not  be  crying  over  the  dead  body  of  his 
child ;  and  lifting  up  from  the  ground  its  poor  miserable 
mother  ?  and  if  a  man  has  no  children  of  his  own,  still  is  there 
such  a  feeling  in  the  world  to  bring  back  a  child  to  its  parents, 
to  say,  I  took  it  up  when  it  was  breathless,  I  never  quitted 
it  till  life  came  back;  I  laboured  for  the  sake  of  God  and  for 
pity,  and  there  is  the  child  yet  living?  I  come  here  to 
awaken  in  you  such  thoughts  as  these,  to  be  the  humble 
instrument  of  good  to  you  and  yours ;  it  is  not  for  any  dis- 
tant objects  that  I  appeal  to  your  compassion,  but  for  the 
interests  of  this  place  and  this  people ;  for  scenes  which  you 
all  may  witness,  for  misfortunes  to  which  you  are  all  exposed. 


196  FOR  THE  HUMANE  SOCIETY. 

Every  man  who  has  not  beheld  such  scenes  as  those  to 
which  I  have  alluded,  is  apt  to  wonder  why  they  are  insisted 
upon  so  eagerly,  and  felt  so  much ;  but  those  who  have  seen 
them  wonder  that  they  are  not  felt  more.  I  have  been  twice 
present  at  the  process  of  resuscitation,  and  I  cannot  wish  that 
any  person  should  purchase  his  feelings  of  compassion  at  so 
dear  a  rate.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  such  scenes,  but 
one  circumstance  no  time  will  ever  efface  from  my  mind  ;  the 
frantic  grief  of  the  mother  was  not  so  affecting  because  it  was 
dreadful  and  alarming;  but  when  the  first  symptom  of  return- 
ing life  appeared,  I  saw  her,  a  poor  labouring  woman,  kneel- 
ing with  her  hands  clasped  close  to  the  reviving  infant; 
breathing  as  her  child  breathed,  growing  red  and  growing 
pale  with  it ;  praying,  hoping,  fearing  with  her  looks,  and 
gazing  immovably  on  him  till  the  poor  lad  rose  up  and  knew 
his  mother  once  more  ?  Why  did  we  all  labour  for  this 
wretched  woman,  who  had  scarcely  clothes  to  cover  her  or 
bread  to  eat  ?  we  did  it  without  thought  or  reflection,  because 
we  found  ourselves  irresistibly  called  upon  to  make  such  an 
exertion ;  and  so  are  you  called  upon  to  minister  to  such 
anguish,  to  prevent  such  misery,  to  hghten  that  load  of  sor- 
row which  presses  down  the  heart  of  man  in  the  sad  journey 
of  life. 

Man  is  not  discontented  to  part  with  those  whom  he  loves 
in  old  age ;  when  the  fair  career  of  life  is  run  he  feels  such 
losses ;  but  he  knows  they  are  the  inevitable  laws  of  nature, 
the  condition  upon  which  he  lives ;  he  knows  this,  and  such 
an  habitual  style  of  thinking  brings  his  affliction  within  the 
limits  of  reason;  it  operates,  too,  as  some  diminution  of 
wretchedness  where  there  has  been  a  previous  warning,  and 
a  gradual  diminution  of  hope  as  in  a  long  illness ;  but  there 
is  no  heart  strong  enough  to  support  the  sudden  loss  of  kin- 
dred and  of  children.  "  It  was  only  an  hour  ago  that  I  was 
playing  with  my  child ;  and  when  I  came  back  I  saw  the 
hope  and  pride  of  my  life  lying  dead  and  breathless  upon 
the  ground."  It  is  too  much  for  man  to  bear ;  it  is  the  bitter- 
est dreg  in  the  cup  of  God's  wrath ;  a  man  may  live  after 
it ;  but  I  defy  him  to  taste  of  happiness  ever  again,  or  to 
know  what  is  meant  by  tranquillity  and  peace. 

It  is  a  subject  of  great  delicacy  to  touch  upon ;  but  let  it 
be  remembered,  we  concern  ourselves,  not  only  with  the  con- 
sequences of  accidental,  but  of  intentional  death ;  we  stop  the 
impious  temerity  of  the  suicide  ;  we  call  back  to  hfe,  to  duty, 


FOR  THE  HUMANE  SOCIETY.  197 

to  shame  the  man  who  is  retiring  from  the  world  before  God 
and  nature  summon  him  away  ?  We  keep  back  a  spirit 
from  the  torments  of  hell ;  we  seize  upon  the  first  dawnings 
of  returning  reason,  to  teach  him  that  he  must  never  abandon 
his  confidence  in  Heaven.  We  spare  to  wretched  women  and 
children,  a  spectacle  of  infamy  and  horror  ;  we  give  back  a 
son  to  parents,  a  parent  to  children,  a  citizen  to  the  state,  a 
repentant  man  to  all  the  duties,  charities  and  relations  of  life; 
it  is  astonishing  that  any  wise  and  reflecting  mind  should 
attempt  to  underrate  the  grievous  sin  of  suicide  ; — putting 
aside  all  higher  considerations,  what  sort  of  doctrine  does  it 
tend  to  inculcate  ?  "  It  is  of  no  sort  of  importance  to  me,  to 
labour  slowly  and  systematically,  to  estabhsh  a  reputation  in 
the  world ;  I  will  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  I  can  die  ;  I 
will  plunder,  dissipate  and  destroy  ;  and  when  the  vengeance 
of  mankind  is  faUing  too  heavily  upon  me,  the  remedy  is  in 
my  own  hands  ;  he  who  is  careless  of  his  own  life,  has  no- 
thing to  fear  from  any  human  being."  It  is  not  only  this 
style  of  thinking  and  acting  which  is  to  be  apprehended 
from  the  frequency  of  suicide  ;  but  no  man  stands  insulated 
from  the  world,  no  man  can  dispose  of  his  own  life,  without 
affecting,  in  the  deepest  manner,  the  happiness  of  many  other 
human  beings,  who  have  acquired  certain  rights  over  every 
important  action  of  his  life.  I  pass  over,  at  present,  the  reli- 
gious offence ;  I  speak  only  of  the  alarm,  the  agony,  the  dis- 
turbance, the  universal  horror,  which  such  a  crime  occasions, 
if  we  diminish  (as  we  do  most  clearly  diminish),  all  this  train 
of  evils  ;  then,  surely,  upon  every  plea  of  reason  and  feeling, 
upon  every  principle  of  the  Gospel,  is  our  society  entitled  to 
your  protection  and  support. 

There  is  something  in  the  very  idea  of  the  art  of  reviving 
the  apparently  dead,  which  cannot  fail  to  inspire  the  feelings 
of  solemnity  and  religion.  Is  there  life  yet  in  the  body,  or 
is  the  soul  of  this  man  gone  to  render  account  of  the  good 
and  the  evil  it  has  done  at  the  judgment  seat  of  God  ?  Is  it 
merely  perishable  matter  with  which  we  are  occupied,  that 
to-morrow  will  be  laid  in  its  grave  ?  or  will  it  once  more  be 
informed  by  a  reasonable  soul  and  agitated  by  passions?  are 
the  days  of  his  years  come  to  an  end,  or  will  he  remain  to  act 
a  valuable  and  important  part  upon  the  theatre  of  the  world  ? 
Ihen  what  is  this  life,  which  we  are  calling  back  with  such 
eager  and  incessant  care  ?  whence  comes  it  ?  how  went  it 
away  ? — what  is  it  ?     The  flesh  is  not  life,  nor  the  blood,  nor 

17* 


198  FOR  THE  HUMANE  SOCIETY. 

the  complicated  system  of  nerves  ;  the  eye  cannot  see  it,  nor 
can  it  be  subjected  to  any  sense,  nor  has  reason  explained  and 
defined  it ;  it  is  a  thought  which  baffles  inquiry,  inspires  ter- 
ror, teaches  wisdom,  humbles  the  most  aspiring  being,  by 
telling  him  that  there  is  a  Creator,  a  master ;  and  then,  too,  a 
punisher  above. 

You  see  before  you,  too,  on  such  occasions,  and  see  with 
no  common  interest,  a  man  who  has  tasted  of  death  ;  who  has 
been  subjected  to  that  agony  which  we  all  must  feel,  and 
exposed  to  that  peril  which  we  all  at  last  must  meet ;  how 
natural  to  ask,  "  What  were  your  feelings  at  such  a  moment  ? 
In  what  shape,  in  what  array,  with  what  host  of  terrors,  with 
what  new  and  stupendous  machinery  of  feelings,  does  death 
come  ?  What  is  it  at  which  we  all  recoil  with  so  much 
horror,  and  which  we  learn,  from  our  earliest  youth,  to  con- 
sider as  the  great  bane  of  human  happiness  ?"  But  upon 
such  points  as  these,  the  veil  of  nature  cannot  be  penetrated, 
nor  can  living  beings  know  the  dreadful  mysteries  beyond 
the  grave ;  this  we  know,  however,  from  the  universal  assur- 
ance of  all  who  have  been  exposed  to  this  anticipation  of 
death,  that  their  last  recollections  have  been  the  mercy  and 
protection  of  God ;  that  they  descended,  as  they  thought,  to 
death,  calling  on  his  name,  and  supplicating  his  forgiveness; 
that  this  was  the  last  notion  with  which  they  seemed  to  re- 
sign the  world.  And  so  it  always  is  with  us  all ;  religion  is 
natural  and  necessary  to  the  heart  of  man ;  where  else  can 
that  being  seek  for  succour,  who  is  in  death,  in  the  midst  of 
life  ?  what  other  hope,  in  the  perils  of  land,  or  water ;  on  the 
bed  of  sickness  ;  in  the  hour  of  death  ;  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment ?  Do  not  mind  what  the  ministers  of  religion  say,  but 
in  all  the  stupendous  events  of  life,  if  you  find  men  falling 
back  upon  religion,  not  only  as  their  greatest,  but  as  their 
only  consolation ;  if  those,  who  have  thought  themselves 
perishing  in  secret,  tell  you  that  at  that  dread  moment,  it 
was  the  rod  and  staff*  upon  which  they  leant ;  this  is  one 
of  those  powerful  and  unprepared  evidences  in  favour  of 
religion,  which  outweighs  all  that  eloquence  and  argument 
can  produce. 

I  am  afraid,  that  I  have  already  extended  what  I  have  to 
say  to  an  improper  length,  but  I  am  most  anxious  to  succeed 
in  my  object,  and  to  prevent  a  repetition  of  those  melancholy 
scenes  which  have  given  to  us  all  so  much  pain;  think 
what  it  is  to  save  one  father  for  his  children  ;  to  rescue  one 


FOR  THE  HUMANE  SOCIETY.  199 

child  from  untimely  death  ;  to  diminish  so  much  alarm ;  to 
diffuse  so  much  heartfelt  joy  ;  to  place  under  the  control  of 
skill  and  prudence  some  of  the  bitterest  calamities  of  the 
world.  God  knows  how  often  the  life  of  man  has  been  cast 
away  ;  the  httle  account  that  has  been  made  of  it  in  all  the 
great  changes  and  revolutions  of  the  world ;  the  millions 
which  have  perished  for  some  object  which  they  did  not 
comprehend,  and  by  which  they  could  not  benefit ;  it  is 
delightful  to  think,  amid  all  the  works  of  bad  ambition,  amid 
all  the  groans  and  bleedings  of  the  earth,  that  in  some  little 
part  of  the  world,  at  least,  men  are  occupied  with  the  preser- 
vation of  life  ;  that  there  are  some  human  beings,  who  can 
derive  the  highest  gratification  in  restoring  to  those  who  love 
him  the  lowest  and  poorest  of  mankind.  These  thoughts 
are  pleasant  and  refreshing ;  they  do  honour  to  those  with 
whom  they  originated  ;  I  am  sure  they  must  produce  the 
happiest  effects  in  this  neighbourhood;  and  I  sincerely  implore 
the  blessing  of  Almighty  God  upon  so  wise,  so  humane,  and 
so  Christian  an  undertaking. 


::i^M^^^0^^~%f^" 


SERMON   XXIX- 


ON    THE    EFFECTS    WHICH    CHRIS 
TIANITY    OUGHT    TO    PRODUCE 
UPON    MANNERS. 


The  fruits  of  the  spirit  are  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness, 
goodness,  &c. — Galatians  v.  verse  25. 

In  this  epistle  to  the  Galatians,  as  in  many  parts  of  his 
writings,  St.  Paul  distinguishes  between  the  works  of  the 
flesh  and  of  the  spirit;  meaning  by  the  first,  the  gratification 
of  those  bad  appetites  and  passions  incidental  to  our  nature; 
and  by  the  last,  those  virtues  which  we  are  taught  by  the 
Christian  rehgion. 

The  catalogue  of  natural  vices  exhibits  a  true  and  disgust- 
ing picture  of  man  untaught  and  unpurified  by  his  Creator. 
The  works  of  the  flesh,  says  he,  are  hatred,  variance,  strife, 
wrath,  emulations,  envyings  and  seditions.  But  the  Chris- 
tian religion  teaches  another  mind ;  the  fruits  of  that  spirit  it 
would  inculcate  are  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentle- 
ness and  goodness.  In  this  manner,  the  general  scope  of 
Christianity  is  pointed  out  in  a  few  words,  and  a  test  afforded 
us  by  which  we  may  estimate  our  progress  in  religion. 

We  say,  in  our  language,  to  seize  on  the  spirit  of  a  thing : 
we  talk  of  the  spirit  of  our  political  constitution,  of  the  spirit 
of  our  civil  and  criminal  law ;  and  we  seem  to  mean  by  the 
expressions,  those  few  leading  principles  which  uniformly 
pervade  these  respective  codes,  and  give  them  consistency  of 
character ;  in  this  sense  the  apostle  unfolds  to  us  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  the  object  and  tendency  of  all  its  laws  ;  they  are 
instituted  to  increase  love  and  affection  amongst  mankind ;  to 
make  us  happy,  to  diffuse  peace,  to  inculcate  mutual  forbear- 
ance, gentleness,  goodness  and  meekness. 


ON  THE  EFFECTS  WHICH  CHRISTIANITY,  <fec.  201  * 

The  fruits  of  the  spirit  are  love. — By  love  the  apostle  means 
philanthropy,  the  general  love  of  our  fellow-creatures,  a 
passion  dwelling  more  often  on  the  lip  than  in  the  heart,  and 
rather  a  theme  on  which  we  declaim,  than  a  motive  from 
which  we  act.  The  mass  of  us  who  are  called  Christians 
do  not  hate  our  fellow-creatures,  but  we  do  not  love  them. 
Misanthropy  is  a  compound  of  ill-temper,  disappointment  and 
folly,  which  does  not  often  occur.  But  most  men  are  indif- 
ferent to  that  part  of  the  species  which  is  out  of  the  pale  of 
their  own  private  acquaintance  ;  the  cry  of  public  wretched- 
ness never  reaches  them  ;  they  never  seek  for  hidden  misery  ; 
they  shrink  from  that  courageous  benevolence  which  wades 
through  mockery,  and  contempt,  and  horror,  to  curb  the  in- 
famous with  laws,  and  comfort  the  poor  with  bread  ;  and  when 
the  rain  and  the  tempest  blacken  the  earth,  they  gather 
round  their  comforts  within  ;  and  make  fast  the  bars  of  their 
gate  against  the  crying  Lazarus,  and  leave  his  sores  to  the 
dogs,  and  his  head  to  the  storm. 

Again,  nothing  can  be  more  dissimilar  from  the  fruits  of  the 
spirit  than  that  little  indulgence  which  our  mutual  faults  ex- 
perience one  from  the  other.  The  character  and  conduct  of 
those  with  whom  we  live,  are  not  only  a  very  natural  but  a 
very  necessary  object  of  inquiry ;  we  should  live  and  act  in 
the  dark,  if  we  were  not  to  make  it  so ;  but  the  strong  tend- 
ency to  injustice  and  ill  nature  is  the  thing  to  be  corrected. 
Tear  the  veil  off  your  heart,  and  look  at  it  steadily  and  bold- 
ly ;  for  a  keener  eye  than  yours  shall  one  day  pierce  into 
its  darkest  chambers.  Is  there  no  secret  wish  to  find  the  im- 
putation true,  by  which  another  is  degraded  ?  Is  there  no 
secret  fear  that  it  should  be  refuted?  Do  these  sentiments 
never  lurk  under  the  affectation  of  pity  and  condolence  ?  Have 
you  never  concealed  those  circumstances  and  considerations 
which  you  knew  would  extenuate  the  guilt  of  an  absent  and 
an  accused  person?  Have  you  never  sat  in  the  prudent 
ecstasy  of  silence,  and  seen  the  frame  of  a  good  or  an  eminent 
man  mangled  before  your  eyes  ?  Have  you  never  given 
credit  and  circulation  to  improbable  evidence  of  crime  ?  Have 
you  examined  the  guilt  of  your  neighbour,  as  you  would 
examine  the  guilt  of  jbur  child,  in  heaviness  of  heart  and  in 
all  the  reluctant  wretchedness  of  conviction  ?  Have  you 
never  added  to  evil  report  ?  never  in  a  bad  hour  and  with 
accursed  tongue,  and  with  unblushing  face,  heaped  up  in- 
famy on  a  better  man  than  yourself;  and  spoken  that  which 


202  ON  THE  EFFECTS  WHICH  CHRISTIANITY 

was  false  of  the  helpless,  the  good,  the  wise,  or  the  great  ? 
And  if  you  have  done  it,  if  it  form  the  daily  habit  of  your 
life,  what  title  have  you  to  the  name  of  Christian  ?  Or  of 
what  right  do  you  call  on  Jesus,  the  merciful  and  the  good? 
Be  not  deceived ;  God  is  never  scorned.  Think  you  that  he 
who  set  at  nought  the  idle  sacrifice  of  the  Jews,  who  would 
not  eat  bulls'  flesh,  or  drink  the  blood  of  goats,  will  be  mocked 
with  bended  knees  and  uplifted  hands  ?  Are  we  the  disciples 
of  Christ  because  we  stand  at  this  prayer,  and  rise  at  that, 
and  sanctify  the  face,  and  strain  at  trifles,  and  fill  the  temple 
with  the  cry  of  God,  God,  and  Lord,  Lord  ?  If  these  are  our 
notions  of  religion,  we  walk  on  deceitful  ashes,  which  will 
plunge  our  bodies  in  flame.  Christ  came  down  from  the 
mercy-seat  of  God  to  heal  our  woes,  and  minister  to  our  in- 
firmities, to  soften  the  nature  of  man,  and  to  bend  his  heart 
to  mercy.  If  you  truly  venerate  his  holy  name,  walk  in  that 
spirit  with  which  he  walked  on  the  earth ;  forgive  as  you 
would  be  forgiven ;  do  unto  others  as  you  would  they  should 
do  unto  you  ;  judge  your  brethren  in  mercy,  be  slow  to  con- 
demn, and  swift  to  forgive ;  bearing  always  upon  you  the 
fruits  of  the  spirit,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness  and  good- 
ness. 

Another  cause  equally  fatal  to  our  progress  in  Christianity, 
is  that  proud  contest  for  superiority,  so  strongly  observable  in 
society. 

Few  human  creatures,  indeed,  are  eminent  either  for  birth, 
fortune,  beauty,  learning,  or  anything  on  which  the  world 
sets  a  value,  without  considering  such  distinctions  as  a  justifi- 
cation of  pride  in  themselves,  or  the  want  of  it  as  a  mark  of 
degradation  in  others.  The  sole  object  for  which  they  mingle 
in  society,  is  to  display  what  they  possess,  and  to  insinuate 
what  the  rest  of  the  world  want.  Their  intercourse  with 
their  fellow-creatures  is  an  eternal  mixture  of  ostentation  and 
sarcasm ;  and  they  would  seem  to  be  certain  beings  of  a  su- 
perior order,  made  by  some  other  God,  and  hoping  for  a  more 
select  salvation.  The  effect  of  Christian  faith  upon  daily  be- 
haviour is  often,  indeed,  scarcely  discernible,  if  it  exists  at  all; 
every  one  is  the  greatest  in  his  own  eyes  ;  our  forms  of  speech 
only  are  humble,  our  hearts  are  full  of  disdain,  and  Christians 
in  this  house  are  mere  creatures  of  the  world  when  they  leave 
it.  And  yet  there  is  nothing  in  the  humility  of  a  Christian 
incompatible  with  the  elegance  of*  a  gentleman  ;  and  that 
polish  of  manners  on  which  the  world  places  so  great,  and 


OUGHT  TO  PRODUCE  UPON  MANNERS.  203 

perhaps  so  merited  a  value,  proceeds  chiefly  from  the  indi- 
cation of  quaHties,  which  it  is  so  much  the  object  of  the  Chris- 
tian rehgion  to  diffuse.  A  man  of  graceful  behaviour  coun- 
terfeits humiUty,  throws  a  veil  over  his  advantages  and  per- 
fections ;  he  discovers  concealed  merit,  brings  it  into  light, 
and  gives  it  brilliancy  and  force. — Nobody  has  any  fault  be- 
fore him ;  he  is  in  appearance  gentle,  long-suffering  and  be- 
nevolent. There  is  hardly  any  one  Christian  quality  which 
a  man,  actuated  by  the  mere  vanity  of  pleasing,  does  not  as- 
sume to  effect  his  object.  Such  oblique  evidences  in  favour 
of  Christianity  is  not  without  force,  and  shows  that  the  dis- 
position of  mind  which  it  labours  to  inculcate,  is  precisely 
that  which  would  render  human  happiness  the  greatest,  by 
rendering  society  the  most  delightful ;  much  more  delightful 
than  it  ever  can  be,  when  we  varnish  over  heart-burnings, 
jealousies,  envyings  and  seditions,  with  Christian  faces,  and 
more  than  Christian  language. 

There  must  exist  in  society  distinction  of  rank,  as  well  as 
difference  of  natural  endowments  and  attainments  the  effect 
of  study  ;  but  God  ordained  this  inequality  amongst  mankind 
for  wiser  purposes  than  to  minister  to  the  pride  of  one  being, 
and  to  wound  the  spirit  of  another ;  the  mere  knowledge  of 
our  superiority  is  not  criminal,  and  indeed  is  frequently  ine- 
vitable. It  is  the  internal  pride  and  contemptuous  treatment 
of  others,  founded  on  such  consciousness  of  superiority,  which 
violate  a  law  of  the  Gospel  most  frequently  repeated,  and  most 
clearly  explained. 

After  all  take  some  quiet,  sober  moment  of  life,  and  add 
together  the  two  ideas  of  pride  and  of  man ;  behold  him,  a 
creature  of  a  span  high,  stalking  through  infinite  space  in  all 
the  grandeur  of  littleness :  Perched  on  a  httle  speck  of  the 
universe,  every  wind  of  heaven  strikes  into  his  blood  the 
coldness  of  death;  his  souls  fleets  from  his  body  like  melody 
from  the  string ;  day  and  night  as  dust  on  the  wheel,  he  is 
rolled  along  the  heavens,  through  a  labyrinth  of  worlds,  and 
all  the  systems  and  creations  of  God  are  flaming  above  and 
beneath.  Is  this  a  creature  to  revel  in  his  greatness  ?  Is 
this  a  creature  to  make  to  himself  a  crown  of  glory  ;  to  deny 
his  own  flesh  and  blood ;  and  to  mock  at  his  fellow  sprung 
from  that  dust  to  which  they  both  will  soon  return  ?  Does  the 
proud  man  not  err  ?  Does  he  not  suffer?  Does  he  not  die  ? 
When  he  reasons  is  he  never  stopped  by  difficulties  ?  When 
he  acts  is  he  never  tempted  by  pleasures  ?  When  he  lives  is  he 


204  ON  THE  EFFECTS  WHICH  CHRISTIANITY 

free  from  pain  ?  When  he  dies  can  he  escape  from  the  com- 
mon grave  ?  Pride  is  not  the  heritage  of  man  ;  humility 
should  dwell  with  frailty,  and  atone  for  ignorance,  error  and 
imperfection. 

It  is  not  merely  with  gross  acts  of  vice,  or  with  splendid 
virtues  that  Christianity  is  conversant ;  this  is  not  the  true 
genius  and  nature  of  our  religion ;  it  descends  even  to  that 
turn  of  mind  and  sentiment  which  fashions  the  deportment 
of  man  to  man ;  it  not  only  guards  society  from  daring  enor- 
mities, but  would  render  our  lives  more  happy  by  endearing 
cares  and  engaging  attentions;  it  teaches  man  to  be  gentle, 
and  kind  to  his  fellow,  to  forbear  with  him,  to  forgive  foibles, 
to  forget  injuries,  to  cheer  the  lowly  with  glad  words  and 
kind  looks.  This  civil  and  gracious  spirit  is,  perhaps,  the 
truest  test  of  our  progress  in  Christianity.  Every  one  is 
subject  to  occasional  fits  of  generosity,  but  a  humane  conside- 
ration, a  rational  indulgence  for  others,  evinced  by  a  constant 
sweetness  of  manner,  is,  perhaps,  the  most  indisputable  proof 
that  Christianity  has  sunk  deeply  and  intimately  into  the 
heart.  Do  not  let  this  seem  a  frivolous  and  inadequate  object 
for  a  Divine  lawgiver ;  it  owes  its  importance  to  the  moral 
constitution  of  man.  The  causes  of  great  happiness  and 
misery  rarely  occur;  little  circumstances  and  events  that 
appear  trifling,  singly  considered,  make  up  the  sum  of  human 
enjoyment  or  misery.  The  retrospect  of  our  past  lives  will 
show  us  that  the  greatest  misfortune  we  have  suffered,  is  the 
sum  total  of  useless  vexation  inflicted  on  ourselves  and  others 
from  the  want  of  this  Christian  restraint  upon  temper  and 
Christian  incitement  to  benevolence. 

Men  are  more  pained  by  affront  than  by  injury ;  affront  im- 
plies the  absence  of  esteem  and  the  presence  of  contempt ;  and 
to  gain  the  one  and  to  avoid  the  other,  seems  to  be  almost  the 
ruling  passion  of  our  lives.  For  wherefore  are  the  greater 
part  of  mankind  studious  of  riches,  but  from  the  consequence 
they  reflect  on  their  possessor?  Of  what  good  are  hidden  beauty 
or  concealed  talent,  or  secret  splendour  of  descent  ?  All  these 
we  covet,  as  they  enable  us  to  move  with  greater  dignity  in 
the  world.  What  is  the  sting  of  poverty  ?  not  the  privation 
of  luxuries,  but  ridicule  and  contempt,  which  men  die  daily 
to  avoid,  because  they  fear  them  worse  than  death.  Esteem 
is  the  great  stake  for  which  we  all  play:  and  to  show  a  hu- 
man being,  not  rendered  infamous  from  crime,  that  you  d€- 


OUGHT  TO  PRODUCE  UPON  MANNERS.  205 

spise  him,  is  a  cruelty  which  savours  little  of  that  gentle 
religion  we  profess  or  that  merciful  Redeemer  we  adore. 

The  worldly  motives  to  cultivate  the  fruits  of  the  spirit 
(though  subordinate  of  course  to  those  of  religion),  are  nume- 
rous and  strong.  The  resentment  which  proceeds  from  con- 
tempt, is  as  much  to  he  feared  as  the  affection  excited  by 
courteous  treatment  is  to  be  desired  and  cherished.  It  is 
wretched  policy  to  stimulate  any  human  being  to  a  keen  in- 
spection of  our  follies  and  our  faults,  for  no  character  can 
bear  the  microscopic  scrutiny  of  vindictive  anger.  Contempt 
never  passes  unobserved,  is  seldom  forgiven,  and  always 
returned  with  a  rapid  accumulation  of  interest.  Everybody 
makes  league  against  insolence ;  the  misfortunes  of  an  inso- 
lent man  are  a  public  rejoicing ;  his  vices  are  exaggerated, 
his  motives  falsified,  and  his  virtues  forgotten ;  he  must  humble 
himself  in  dust  and  ashes,  before  the  world  can  or  will  forgive 
him.  Whereas  that  security  which  arises  from  a  conscious- 
ness of  being  generally  beloved,  is  the  great  soother  of  life 
and  the  most  delightful  sensation  that  any  human  being  can 
enjoy.  He  who  affects  to  despise  the  verdict,  which  the  great 
tribunal  of  the  world  passes  on  his  life  and  fame,  says  that 
which  is  not  true,  or  that  which  is  shameful  if  it  be  true; 
the  delicacy  of  our  feelings,  with  regard  to  public  opinion, 
is  extreme.  To  hear  that  we  have  been  the  subject  of 
conversation  in  our  absence  creates  a  sensation  of  anxious 
alarm  ;  we  glance  instantly  at  the  weak  parts  of  our  character, 
at  the  offence  or  the  benevolence  we  have  previously  awak- 
ened in  our  judges  ;  and  our  hearts  die  within  us,  if  we  learn 
that  we  have  been  the  object  of  general  condemnation ;  but 
to  reflect  that  we  are  beloved  as  widely  as  we  are  known,  to 
think  that  there  are  many  absent  human  beings,  who  bear  to 
us  the  seeds  of  good  will,  kindness  and  esteem,  is  a  senti- 
ment which  cheers  the  sadness  of  life ;  we  shall  live  so  as 
never  to  lose  it ;  it  breathes  a  grateful  tranquillity  on  the 
soul ;  it  is  a  firm  barrier  against  the  waves  of  chance,  a  last- 
ing, solid  happiness,  which  we  bear  about  us,  like  strength 
and  health  earned  by  temperance  and  toil.  If  ye  would  then 
that  men  should  love  you,  love  ye  also  them ;  not  with  gen- 
tleness of  face  alone  and  the  shallow  mockery  of  smiles  ;  but 
in  singleness  of  heart,  in  forbearance,  judging  mercifully, 
entering  into  the  mind  of  thy  brother,  to  spare  his  pains,  to 
prevent  his  wrath,  to  be  unto  him  an  eternal  fountain  of  peace. 
These  are  the  fruits  of  the  spirit,  and  this  the  soul  which 
18 


206  ON  THE  EFFECTS  WHICH  CHRISTIANITY,  &C. 

emanates  from  our  sacred  religion.  If  we  bear  these  fruits 
now  in  the  time  of  this  Hfe ;  if  we  write  these  laws  on  the 
tablets  of  our  hearts,  so  as  we  not  only  say  but  do  them,  then 
indeed  are  we  the  true  servants  of  Jesus  and  the  children  of 
his  redemption.  For  us  he  came  down  from  Heaven ;  for  us 
he  was  scorned  and  hated  upon  earth ;  for  us  mangled  on  the 
cross  ;  and,  at  the  last  day,  when  the  trumpet  shall  sound,  and 
the  earth  melt,  and  the  heavens  groan  and  die,  we  shall  spring 
up  from  the  dust  of  the  grave  the  ever  living  spirits  of  God. 


SEEMON    XXX. 

FOR    THE    SWISS. 

The  mountains  are  melted  with  their  blood. — Isaiah  xxxiv.  verse  3. 

With  the  pleeisure  which  I  always  feel  in  addressing  you 
on  any  subject  of  charity,  may  be  mingled,  perhaps,  on  this 
particular  occasion  some  distant  sense  of  national  honour  and 
some  small  share  of  national  pride ;  for  it  has  ever  been  the 
memorable  privilege  of  this  island  to  stand  forward  as  the 
early  and  eager  champion  of  all  the  miseries  of  man  ;  and 
though  other  nations  may  have  fought  and  may  have  gained 
in  arms  and  in  arts  a  name  equally  glorious  with  our  own,  none 
have  ever  cherished  the  wretched  stranger  as  we  have  done ; 
none  have  so  sheltered  the  weary  exile  of  other  lands ;  none 
have  ministered  with  such  melting  humanity,  to  aliens  in 
speech  and  blood,  who  kneeled  before  us  venerable  in  misery 
and  pleaded  the  kindred  of  misfortune.  For  when  did  any 
people  ever  fall  from  their  high  estate,  and  there  was  no  one 
of  us  to  lament  them  ?  When  was  any  country  ever  smitten 
and  afflicted,  and  we  did  not  lift  them  up  from  the  dust  ?  What 
victims  of  war,  of  tyranny,  and  persecution  have  we  ever 
driven  back  from  our  shores  ?  What  species  of  sorrow  have 
we  rejected?     What  shape  of  misery  have  we  despised  ? 

It  is  pleasant  to  hear  of  the  virtues  of  our  country ;  the  good 
deeds  our  fathers  have  done,  warm  our  hearts  to  mercy ;  their 
generation  is  passed  away,  and  they  are  all  sleeping  in  their 
tombs :  but  as  their  blood  gives  us  life,  so  may  their  noble 
thoughts  yet  dwell  in  the  bosoms  of  their  children. 

When  the  poor  Palatines  presented  themselves  at  the  gates 
of  the  metropolis,  every  British  heart  was  roused  to  a  pitch  of 
enthusiasm  for  their  relief.  It  could  not  be  endured  that  a 
sad  and  motley  crowd  of  men  and  women  should  lie  on  the 


208  FOR  THE  SWISS. 

bare  ground,  under  the  open  wintry  heaven,  begging  humbly 
and  piteously  for  food ;  they  drank  of  our  cup :  they  were 
warmed  with  the  fleece  of  our  sheep  ;  the  tears  of  these  poor 
creatures  were  dried  up,  and  their  hearts  opened  to  new  pros- 
pects of  joy. 

Not  less  conspicuous  was  the  charity  of  this  island  at  that 
dreadful  epoch  when  the  city  of  Lisbon  was  overturned  by 
an  earthquake,  and  one  dreadful  day  made  of  a  beautiful 
metropolis  a  heap  of  hideous  ruins.  It  was  from  the  quick 
and  efficacious  bounty  of  the  British  people,  that  they  expe- 
rienced the  first  dawn  of  relief;  the  blessings  of  all  ranks  of 
j^eople  were  showered  upon  us.  King  and  peasant  were 
melted  by  our  compassion ;  and  wretched  mothers  that  lin- 
gered weeping  over  the  stones  of  the  city,  which  covered  the 
mangled  bodies  of  their  children,  could  spare  one  prayer  to 
Heaven  for  their  benefactors  and  their  friends. 

Why  should  I  remind  you  of  the  late  unparalleled  instance 
of  goodness  and  generosity  shown  to  the  poor  French  emi- 
grants ?  a  generosity  which  want  and  privation  of  every  kind 
have  not  been  able  to  relax,  or  to  extinguish.  In  the  midst  of 
a  bloody  war,  carried  on  by  their  own  countrymen  for  our 
destruction,  we  have  expended  millions  in  support  of  the 
French  who  have  sought  an  asylum  amongst  us  ;  and  while 
the  blood  of  our  brothers  and  our  friends  has  been  flowing 
from  the  swords  of  their  kindred,  they  have  lived  tranquilly 
amongst  us,  in  the  peace  of  our  laws,  and  the  plenty  of  our 
land. 

Induced  by  these  splendid  examples  of  national  feeling, 
the  poor  people  of  Switzerland  come  tremblingly  before  you, 
to  beg  some  small  relief  in  their  wretchedness.  They  come 
to  you,  not  with  the  looks  of  freemen,  but  in  tears,  and  in 
chains,  naked,  hungered,  and  broken-hearted.  The  valleys  yet 
ring  with  their  cries,  the  mountains  are  wet  with  their  blood; 
they  have  been  smitten,  and  slaughtered,  and  spoiled.  Swit- 
zerland is  begging  to  Europe  for  charity  !  —  Switzerland, 
where  the  humblest  peasant  would  have  blushed  to  have 
sought  his  support,  but  from  the  strength  of  his  arm,  and  the 
energy  of  his  mind  ! — Switzerland,  which  seemed  one  vast 
family,  ruled  by  the  same  spirit  of  activity ! — Switzerland, 
where  simplicity,  and  peace,  and  joy,  had  fled  from  courts 
and  empires,  to  dwell  in  the  awful  bosom  of  her  eternal 
mountains. 

I  cannot  but  feel  some  little  embarrassment  in  pressing  the 


^1 


'FOR  THE  SWISS.  209 

misfortunes  of  the  Swiss  upon  your  notice,  when  the  neces- 
sities of  your  own  poor  seem  to  put  in  so  much  more  imperi- 
ous a  claim  to  your  generosity.  But  this  claim  of  your  own 
poor,  it  should  be  remembered,  has  been  already  heard,  and 
allowed ;  a  very  large  sum  has  been  subscribed  for  their 
Telief,  and  a  much  larger  sum  would,  if  it  were  necessary, 
be  raised  with  the  same  facility. 

Neither  does  it  follow,  that  the  pittance  raised  upon  this 
occasion,  should  be  subtracted  from  your  domestic  charities. 
In  the  present  posture  of  affairs,  many  good  people  will  be,  I 
am  sure,  induced  to  sacrifice  somewhat  of  their  amusements, 
or  even  of  their  comforts,  to  their  conviction  of  the  general 
miseries  of  Europe  ;  and  upon  this  truly  Christian  spirit,  you 
must  allow  me  to  say,  from  my  present  experience  of  this 
country,  that  I  place  the  firmest  and  most  rational  reliance. 
Besides,  too,  I  never  will  subscribe  to  that  doctrine,  which, 
confines  the  feelings  of  humanity  to  the  more  wealthy  and 
educated  classes  of  mankind.  The  poor  feel  acutely  for  those 
whose  miseries  are  greater  than  their  own.  Suff*ering  as 
the  peasantry  are  in  this  melancholy  season  of  scarcity,  if  it 
were  possible  to  give  them  a  clear  conception  of  the  ancient 
state  of  society  in  Switzerland,  of  that  happiness  from  which 
the  Swiss  have  been  precipitated,  and  the  abject  misery  to 
which  they  have  been  reduced,  do  you  think  they  would 
grudge  to  these  poor  creatures  the  charity  you  may  extend 
to  them  ?  No  !  suffering  as  they  are,  they  would  break  off'  a 
morsel  of  their  bread  for  the  poor  Swiss,  and  would  cheer- 
fully add  another  pang  of  hunger  to  the  sorrows  of  their 
hearts. 

Amidst  all  the  enormities  of  the  French  Revolution,  no  one 
circumstance  perhaps  has  excited  such  general  sympathy 
and  indignation  as  the  fall  of  Switzerland.  With  the  name 
of  Switzerland  have  been  connected,  from  our  earliest  years, 
all  the  worthy  feelings  of  the  heart,  and  all  the  exquisite 
beauties  of  nature ;  all  that  the  eye  of  taste,  or  the  soul  of 
benevolence  could  require ;  a  race  of  brave,  and  happy,  and 
good  men  animated  her  solemn  rocks  and  glens  ;  the  climbing 
step  of  freedom  had  scanned  the  summit  of  the  mountains, 
the  unwearied  hand  of  labour  had  drawn  from  the  barren 
rock  sustenance  for  man ;  the  peasant,  with  his  plough,  and 
his  sword,  and  his  book,  was  at  once  a  tiller  of  the  earth,  a 
soldier  and  a  Christian.  Happiness  never  w^as  more  com- 
plete, imagination  could  not  paint  a  more  enviable  lot  upon 

J8* 


210  FOR  THE  SWISS. 

earth,  or  could  the  earth  afford  it.  For  six  hundred  years 
they  had  remained  firm  as  their  native  mountains,  amidst  all 
the  convulsions  of  Europe  ;  for  two  hundred  years  they  had 
hardly  drawn  the  sword,  or  never  drawn  it  but  to  conquer. 
"  They  were  a  chosen  land,  beloved  of  God  ;  and  while  the 
wrathful  hail  smote  the  lands  about  them,  in  their  fields  was 
no  hail  seen." 

Into  these  hallowed  retreats,  in  the  midst  of  a  solemn  truce, 
in  spite  of  the  strict  neutrality  observed  by  the  Swiss,  and 
the  solemn  and  repeated  promises  of  their  own  government, 
burst  the  common  enemies  of  mankind,  hot  from  the  carnage, 
and  reeking  with  the  blood  of  other  nations.  They  came  to 
no  new  work  of  horror ;  they  had  murdered  other  innocents, 
and  pillaged  other  temples,  and  wasted  other  lands.  They 
could  dye  the  silvered  hair  of  the  aged  man  with  his  own 
blood ;  they  could  curse  the  tears  of  women,  and  dash  down 
the  suckling  babe  as  he  lifted  up  his  meek  eyes  for  mercy. 

In  the  midst  of  such  horrid  scenes  as  these,  many  actions 
of  heroic  valour  characterized  the  last  days  of  Switzerland ; 
and  she  died  with  her  face  ever  turned  to  the  enemy,  slowly 
yielding,  and  fiercely  struggling  to  the  last.  In  the  final  bat- 
tle, fought  near  the  environs  of  the  capital,  (fought,  as  said 
the  French,  on  their  part,  for  the  liberation  of  the  Swiss  peo- 
ple,) one  hundred  and  sixty  women  were  left  dead  upon  the 
field  of  battle,  mangled  almost  to  atoms  ;  still  greater  numbers 
perished  at  Nurenburg,  at  Laupen,  and  Lengnau,  fighting 
with  madness  for  all  they  loved  upon  earth,  and  throwing 
their  comely  bleeding  bodies  before  their  husbands  and  their 
children.  At  Oberland,  an  old  peasant  was  observed  in  arms, 
fighting  amidst  his  three  children,  and  his  seven  grandchildren; 
they  sustained  the  combat  with  inconceivable  bravery,  calling 
upon  each  other  by  name  tenderly ;  the  children  thronging 
about  the  old  man,  and  guarding  with  their  manly  limbs  the 
hoary  head  of  their  parent.  They  were  all  murdered  ;  and 
in  a  moment  of  time,  this  valiant  race  was  blotted  from  the 
book  of  living  men. 

In  the  midst  of  all,  wherever  bravery,  and  wherever  coun- 
sel were  needed,  was  their  truly  great  and  intrepid  leader  ;* 
not  now,  as  you  might  think,  in  the  fullness  of  strength  and 
youth,  but  an  old  man  of  seventy  years  of  age,  who,  for  half 
a  century,  had  ruled  the  affairs  of  the  republic  with  the  utmost 

*  Steigner, 


FOR  THE  SWISS.  211 

wisdom  and  justice,  and  found  himself,  at  the  close  of  life, 
when  ease  and  retirement,  crowned  with  honour,  are  so 
sweet,  combating  in  the  midst  of  armed  peasants,  for  the 
existence  of  his  country.  He  had  ever  warned  the  Swiss  of 
the  dangers  to  which  they  were  exposed,  but  unfortunately 
in  vain.  At  the  moment  of  actual  peril,  his  age  and  his  in- 
firmities would  have  allowed  him  to  retire  without  disgrace  ; 
but  there  are  men  who  are  ruled  by  something  within,  which 
they  dread  more  than  the  judgment  of  the  world.  He  who 
had  guided  his  country  in  the  days  of  her  tranquillity,  could 
not  forsake  her  in  her  troubles.  The  miseries  of  Switzerland 
made  her  doubly  dear  to  this  good  man ;  and,  like  a  true 
leader  of  the  people,  he  led  them  in  the  day  of  death  and 
battle.  The  people  are  never  ignorant  who  is  fit  to  lead  them ; 
they  rushed  after  him  like  the  angel  of  the  living  God ;  and 
every  Swiss  peasant,  who  was  stabbed  at  his  feet,  cast  his 
lingering  eyes  on  this  great  man,  and  when  he  saw  him  yet 
breathing,  died  in  peace. 

I  ought  perhaps  to  apologize  to  you  for  thus  occupying 
your  time  from  the  pulpit  with  the  praises  of  individuals ;  but 
I  could  not  let  such  an  occasion  pass,  without  saying  a  few 
words  on  so  memorable  a  man.  I  paint  to  you  the  genius  of 
the  people,  in  showing  you  the  extraordinary  characters  to 
which  such  an  epoch  gave  birth.  You  see  what  a  nation 
has  been  destroyed;  you  see  the  full  extent  of  crime,  for 
which  the  French  have  become  amenable  to  the  whole  human 
race.  Besides,  too,  if  at  any  future  time  it  shall  please  Al- 
mighty God  to  expose  this  country  to  similar  perils  ;  if  these 
robbers  of  the  earth  are  still  suffered  to  mock  at  all  living 
men,  to  shiver  to  pieces  crowns  and  sceptres,  and  hurl  down 
princes,  and  potentates,  and  thrones,  and  dominations ;  and 
if  there  be  in  this  church  any  young  man,  destined  by  his 
great  talents,  to  lead  the  people  at  such  an  awful  crisis  ;  let 
him  learn  from  the  life  of  this  illustrious  leader,  to  despise 
every  system  of  temporizing  poHcy,  to  see  that  there  are 
times  when  magnanimity  is  prudence,  when  despair  is  wis- 
dom; like  him,  ever  looking  up  to  God  ;  and  guided  by  the 
light  of  beautiful  and  manly  principles,  let  him  move  forwards 
in  one  even  tenour,  through  all  times,  and  seasons,  and  cir- 
cumstances, and  events. 

The  vengeance  which  the  French  took  of  the  Swiss  for 
their  determined  opposition  to  the  invasion  of  their  country, 
was  decisive  and  terrible.     The  history  of  Europe  can  afford 


212  FOR  THE  SWISS. 

no  parallel  of  such  cruelty.  To  dark  ages,  and  the  most 
barbarous  nations  of  the  east,  we  must  turn  for  similar  scenes 
of  horror,  and  perhaps  must  turn  in  vain.  The  soldiers  dis- 
persed over  the  country,  carried  fire,  and  sword,  and  robbery 
into  the  most  tranquil  and  hidden  valleys  of  Switzerland. 
From  the  depth  of  sweet  retreats  echoed  the  shrieks  of  mur- 
dered men,  stabbed  in  their  humble  dwellings,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  high  mountains,  in  the  midst  of  those  scenes 
of  nature,  which  make  solemn  and  pure  the  secret  thoughts 
of  man,  and  appal  him  with  the  majesty  of  God.  The  flying 
peasants  saw,  in  the  midst  of  the  night,  their  cottages,  their 
implements  of  husbandry,  and  the  hopes  of  the  future  year, 
expiring  in  one  cruel  conflagration.  The  men  were  shot 
upon  the  slightest  provocation ;  innumerable  women,  after 
being  exposed  to  the  most  atrocious  indignities,  were  mur- 
dered, and  their  bodies  thrown  into  the  woods.  In  some 
instances  this  conduct  was  resented  ;  and  for  symptoms  of 
such  an  honourable  spirit,  the  beautiful  town  of  Altsdorf  was 
burnt  to  the  ground,  and  a  single  house  left  to  show  where 
it  had  stood.  The  town  of  Stantz,  a  town  peculiarly  dear  to 
the  Swiss,  as  it  gave  birth  to  one  of  the  founders  of  their 
liberty,  was  reduced  to  a  heap  of  cinders.  In  this  town,  in 
the  fourteenth  century,  a  Swiss  general  surprised,  and  took 
prisoner,  the  Austrian  commander  who  had  murdered  his 
father ;  he  forgave  him,  upon  the  simple  condition  of  his  not 
serving  any  more  against  the  Swiss  Cantons.  When  the 
French  got  possession  of  this  place,  they  burnt  it  to  ashes  ; 
not  in  a  barbarous  age,  but  now,  yesterday,  in  an  age  we  call 
philosophical ;  they  burnt  it  because  the  inhabitants  endea- 
voured to  preserve  their  liberty.  The  Swiss  was  a  simple 
peasant ;  the  French  are  a  mighty  people,  combined  for  the 
regeneration  of  Europe.  Oh,  Europe,  what  dost  thou  owe  to 
this  mighty  people  ?  dead  bodies,  ruinous  heaps,  broken 
hearts,  waste  places,  childless  mothers,  widows,  orphans, 
tears,  endless  confusion,  and  unutterable  woe.  For  this 
mighty  nation  we  have  suffered  seven  years  of  unexampled 
wretchedness,  a  long  period  of  discord,  jealousy,  privation 
and  horror,  which  every  reflecting  man  would  almost  wish 
blotted  out  from  his  existence.  By  this  mighty  people  the 
Swiss  have  lost  their  country ;  that  country  which  they 
loved  so  well,  that  if  they  heard  but  the  simple  song  of  their 
childhood,  tears  fell  down  every  manly  face,  and  the  hearts 
of  intrepid  soldiers  sobbed  with  grief.    What,  then,  is  all  this 


FOR  THE  SWISS.  213 

done  with  impunity  ?  Are  the  thunders  of  God  dumb  ? 
Are  there  no  lightnings  in  his  right  hand  ?  Pause  a  Httle 
before  you  decide  on  the  ways  of  Providence  ;  tarry  and  see 
what  will  come  to  pass.  There  is  a  solemn  and  awful  cou- 
rage in  the  human  heart,  placed  there  by  God  himself,  to 
guard  man  against  the  tyranny  of  his  fellows,  and  while  this 
lives,  the  world  is  safe.  There  slumbers  even  now,  perhaps, 
upon  the  mountains  of  Switzerland,  some  youthful  peasant, 
unconscious  of  the  soul  he  bears,  that  shall  lead  down  these 
bold  people  from  their  rocks  to  such  deeds  of  courage  as  they 
have  heard  with  their  ears,  and  their  fathers  have  declared 
unto  them;  to  such  as  were  done  in  their  days, and  in  the  old 
time  before  them,  by  those  magnanimous  rustics,  who  first 
taught  foohsh  ambition  to  respect  the  wisdom,  and  the  spirit 
of  simple  men,  righteously  and  honestly  striving  for  every 
human  blessing. 

Let  me  go  on  a  little  further  in  this  dreadful  enumeration. 
More  than  thirty  villages  were  sacked  in  the  Canton  of  Berne 
alone  ;  not  only  was  all  the  produce  of  the  present  year 
destroyed,  but  as  the  cattle  unfit  for  human  food  were 
slaughtered,  and  the  agricultural  implements  burnt,  the  cer- 
tainty of  famine  was  entailed  upon  them  for  the  ensuing  year; 
at  the  end  of  all  this  military  execution,  civil  exactions,  still 
more  cruel  and  oppressive,  were  begun  ;  and  under  the  forms 
of  government  and  law,  the  most  unprincipled  men  gave  loose 
to  their  avarice  and  rapacity,  till  Switzerland  has  sunk  at 
last  under  the  complication  of  her  misfortunes,  reduced  to 
the  lowest  ebb  of  misery  and  despair. 

It  cannot  be  necessary,  after  this  narrative,  to  make  any 
long  or  urgent  appeals  to  your  feelings  ?  If  ever  the  mis- 
fortunes of  man  were  a  care  to  you  ;  if  ever  you  have  sacri- 
ficed any  pleasure  to  lighten  the  heavy  heart ;  if  a  wretched 
face  and  a  waihng  voice  have  ever  pierced  your  soul,  and 
sunk  your  gayety  to  the  dust,  and  filled  your  eyes  with  tears, 
have  mercy  on  these  poor  forsaken  people.  I  do  not  ask  of 
you  much,  but  give  them  a  little  ;  they  have  no  bread,  no 
shelter,  no  friends  ;  they  feel  they  have  no  right  to  petition 
you  ;  but  they  fling  themselves  down  on  their  knees  before 
you,  and  beg  you,  through  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  to 
have  pity  on  them,  or  they  must  die.  If  any  one  of  you  had 
been  wandering  in  their  mountains,  they  would  have  entreated 
you  kindly  and  gently ;  if  you  had  been  sick,  they  would 
have  watched  your  bed  ;  if  you  had  been  w^eary,  they  would 


214  FOR  THE  SWISS. 

have  sheltered  you  in  their  cabins :  if  you  had  been  hungry, 
their  very  children  would  have  come  to  share  their  food  with 
you,  and  their  little  faces  would  have  been  clouded  with 
sorrow,  till  the  countenance  of  the  poor  stranger  within  their 
gates  was  turned  to  joy.  Do  not  let  these  men  perish  ;  but 
though  you  have  heard,  in  these  latter  days,  many  a  tale  of 
misery,  be  not  wearied  with  doing  good  ;  but  taught  by  that 
power,  which  has  ever  pity  on  you,  learn  ye  to  have  pity  on 
them. 

The  genuine  soul  of  compassion  is  swift  to  figure,  and  to 
conceive  ;  it  glides  into  the  body  of  the  suffering  wretch  ;  it 
writhes  with  his  agony  ;  it  faints  with  his  hunger  ;  it  weeps 
with  his  tears  ;  it  bleeds  with  his  blood  ;  till,  bHnd  with  the 
wise  and  heavenly  delusion,  it  ministers  to  its  own  fancied 
sorrows  and  labours  for  another  self.  Forget,  then,  for  a  mo- 
ment that  you  are  living  in  a  free  country,  in  affluent  cir- 
cumstances, and  under  respected  laws  ;  put  yourselves  in  the 
situation  of  these  poor  peasants  ;  you  would  see  your  chil- 
dren daily  wasting  before  your  eyes,  for  want  of  proper  food; 
you  would  be  forced  to  bear  their  looks  ;  you  would  see  the 
little  spot  where  all  your  affections  centered  the  habitation  of 
your  forefathers,  the  pride  of  your  life,  broken  down  to  a 
desolation  and  a  desert ;  you  would  sit  down  on  the  ruins  ; 
you  would  remember  the  happy  days  of  your  infancy  that  you 
had  passed  there ;  you  would  think  your  country  was  no 
more,  your  kindred  were  dead  in  battle  ;  you  would  think  of 
all  these  things,  and  your  heart  Avould  break. 

My  brethren,  farewell.  I  have  done.  I  have  said  every- 
thing in  my  power  for  these  unhappy  people  ;  I  have  said  it 
with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  for  I  absolutely  believe  they  are 
dying  from  hunger.  I  humbly  crave  some  little  charity  for 
them ;  I  beg  you  as  Christians,  as  good  and  kind  men,  to 
turn  your  hearts  towards  their  wretchedness  ;  I  beg  you,  as 
you  hope  for  mercy  from  the  good  and  gracious  Jesus,  as 
you  hope  to  spend  your  latter  days  in  peace,  as  you  wish 
that  your  children  in  distant  lands  should  return  home  to  you 
in  good  report,  and  bless  your  eyes  once  more  before  death. 
If  there  be  here  a  parent  who  feels  the  warning  of  age,  and 
hngers  in  heart  round  his  dear  family ;  if  there  be  a  child  that 
knows  how  to  cherish  the  declining  age  of  its  parent  ;  by  all 
these  hopes,  by  all  these  feelings,  by  all  these  passions,  I 
solemnly  entreat  your  mercy  ;  and  may  the  God  of  Heaven, 
and  earth,  and  man,  by  teaching  you  to  pity,  give  you  the 
right  to  implore. 


-«?:<..;-  ."i*:*-  "^ 


SERMON   XXX I. 

ON    TOLERATION. 


For  God  is  not  the  author  of  confusion,  but  of  peace,  in  all  the  churches. — 
1  Corinthians  xiv.  vekse  33. 

As  I  intend  to  avail  myself  of  this  occasion  to  treat  of  that 
spirit  of  religious  intolerance  which  has  recently*  displayed 
itself  in  this  country,  I  am  happy  to  ground  my  remarks  upon 
this  simple  and  Christian  precept,  delivered  in  the  writings 
of  St.  Paul ;  that  the  final  end  of  all  rehgious  estahhshments  is, 
to  disseminate  peace  and  happiness  among  mankind ;  that 
nothing  can  be  farther  from,  or  more  contrary  to,  the  purposes 
for  which  they  were  created,  than  to  teach  men  to  hate  each 
other  on  account  of  their  religious  opinions  :  "  for  God  is  not 
the  author  of  confusion,  but  of  peace  in  all  the  churches." 

It  may  seem  needless  to  invite  attention  to  a  truth  which 
every  man's  understanding  admits  and  every  man's  heart 
adopts,  as  soon  as  it  is  stated.  But  common  experience  shows 
us  that  the  imderstanding  and  the  heart  are  totally  different 
in  a  season  of  passion  and  a  season  of  quiet ;  that  there  are 
periods  when  anger  and  error  are  epidemical;  when  the 
wisest  men  forget  the  plainest  rules  ;  when  it  is  necessary  to 
call  them  back  loudly  and  firmly  to  the  first  elements  of 
justice. 

Because  this  agitation  of  the  public  mind  has  proceeded 
from  an  apprehension  for  the  safety  of  the  Church  Estabhsh- 
ment,  I  shall  endeavour  to  show  what  the  fair  limits  of  a 
church  establishment  are;  and  then  to  lay  down  those  prin- 
ciples of  toleration  and  liberahty  by  which  its  blessings  may 

*  This  sermon  was  written  and  printed  in  the  spring  of  1807 ;  when  a 
clamour^  for  political  purposes,  was  raised  against  the  Catholics. 


216  ON  TOLERATION. 

be  most  widely  extended,  its  friends  the  most  successfully- 
increased,  and  its  interests  the  most  effectually  protected. 

The  church  must  be  distinguished  from  religion  itself.  We 
might  be  Christians  without  any  established  church  at  all ; 
as  some  countries  of  the  world  are  at  this  day.  A  church 
establishment  is  only  an  instrument  for  teaching  rehgion  ;  but 
an  instrument  of  admirable  contrivance  and  of  vast  utility. 

*  To  constitute  an  established  church  there  must  be  an 
order  of  men  set  apart  for  the  ministerial  office ;  a  regular 
provision  made  for  them;  and  a  particular  creed  containing  the 
articles  of  their  faith.  These  are  the  three  considerations 
which  seem  to  make  up  our  idea  of  an  estabhshed  church. 

First,  if  those  who  instructed  the  people  in  their  rehgion, 
were  not  a  peculiar  body  of  men  set  apart  for  that  purpose,  it 
is  clear  that  the  Christian  religion,  the  evidences  of  which 
depend  so  much  on  history  and  on  a  knowledge  of  the  dead 
languages,  would  be  very  imperfectly  taught.  Society,  too, 
has  a  right  to  look  to  its  clergy  for  the  benefits  of  example  as 
well  as  precept ;  which  of  course  they  could  not  do,  if  the 
character  of  a  rehgious  teacher  could  be  assumed  or  laid 
aside  at  pleasure,  and  lasted  only  for  the  time  requisite  to 
deliver  the  instruction. 

Secondly.  The  support  of  the  clergy  ought  not  to  be  left 
to  the  caprice  and  pleasure  of  individuals,  but  it  should  be 
(as  it  is)  compulsory  upon  all;  because,  upon  any  other  sys- 
tem they  would  either  not  be  supported  at  all,  or  would  be  com- 
pelled to  gain  their  subsistence  by  following  where  they  ought 
to  lead,  and  by  flattering  where  it  was  their  duty  to  instruct. 

Lastly.  If  there  were  no  articles  of  faith,  to  which  it  was 
necessary  to  subscribe  in  order  to  become  a  member  of  the 
established  church,  every  species  of  contradiction  would  be 
preached  to  the  same  congregation;  one  minister  would  defend 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  and  another  would  attack  it.  We 
should  hear  at  one  time,  that  Christ  was  the  Son  of  God ;  and 
at  another,  that  he  was  merely  a  prophet.  The  church 
would  become  as  divided  in  its  doctrines  as  Babel  was  in  its 
language  ;  and  the  minds  of  well-intentioned  Christians,  jaded 
by  controversy,  would  lapse  into  uniform  indifference  upon  all 
subjects  of  rehgion. 

These,  then,  are   the   three   main   points  upon  which  all 

*  This  account  of  a  church  establishment  is  taken  from  Paley  ;  though 
such  truths  are  so  obvious  that  a  child  might  state  them,  if  he  had  no  in- 
terest in  perverting  the  truth. 


ON  TOLERATION.  217 

church  establishments  must  rest ;  and  thus  far  such  institu- 
tions have  reason  on  their  side  and  powerfully  promote  the 
best  interests  of  mankind.  In  spite  of  all  wild  and  visionary- 
theories,  it  is  right  that  the  state  should  choose  a  particular 
creed ;  that  they  should  set  apart  a  particular  order  of  men 
to  defend  it ;  and  compel  every  individual  to  pay  to  its  sup- 
port. Homely  and  coarse  as  these  principles  may  appear  to 
many  speculative  men,  they  are  the  only  ones  by  which  the 
existence  of  any  rehgion  can  be  secured  to  the  community ; 
and  we  have  now  too  much  reason  to  beheve  that  the  system 
of  greater  latitude,  attempted  naturally  enough  in  the  new 
world,  will  end  fatally  for  the  Christian  religion,  and  for  good 
practical  morality. 

It  may  also  happen  that  a  particular  sect,  dissenting  from 
the  doctrines  of  the  church,  is  at  the  same  time  disloyally 
inclined  towards  the  state  ;  and  then  it  seems  expedient  to 
seize  hold  of  their  religious  creed  as  a  mark  of  their  political 
principles,  and  to  exclude  them  from  civil  offices  lest  they 
should  use  the  power  such  offices  confer  to  the  injury  of  the 
commonwealth.  Exclusions  of  this  kind  exist  in  our  own  his- 
tory ;  and  in  their  origin  they  were,  perhaps,  wise  and  neces- 
sary. But  it  must  be  remembered  they  are  not,  nor  were  they 
intended  to  be,  any  essential  part  of  a  church  estabhshment ; 
they  are  only  laws  which  make  use  of  a  religious  test,  to 
effect  a  particular  purpose  in  government ;  laws  which  do  not 
say  that  the  man  holding  such  rehgious  opinions,  must  neces- 
sarily be  an  enemy  to  the  state  at  all  times,  but  that  he  is  so 
at  that  particular  time ;  and  that  the  civil  exclusion  must 
remain  as  long  as  the  political  disaffection  exists,  and  not  a 
moment  beyond. 

I  beg,  then,  before  I  speak  of  the  spirit  which  ought  to  ani- 
mate the  Established  Church,  to  remind  you  that  the  only 
essential  and  indispensable  requisites  for  an  establishment 
are,  a  separate  order  of  men  as  teachers  ;  a  legal  provision 
not  left  to  the  option  of  the  people ;  and  a  clear  exposition  of 
their  religious  belief  to  be  subscribed  by  all  its  members.  It 
may  be  necessary,  also,  sometimes,  for  the  state  to  make  reli- 
gious faith  the  test  of  political  opinion,  and,  therefore,  the 
reason  for  civil  incapacities:  but  all  these  regulations  are 
temporary,  are  by  no  means  essential  to  the  church  establish- 
ment, and  ought  to  cease  with  the  causes  which  give  them 
birth. 

These  are,  as  it  seems  to  me  and  has  seemed  to  wiser  and 
19 


218  ON  TOLERATION. 

better  men  than  me,  the  principles  on  which  an  establishment 
ought  to  be  placed ;  and  upon  this  base  there  will  be  reared 
a  church,  not  of  confusion  but  of  peace. 

I  come  now  to  that  part  of  my  discourse  concerning  the 
spirit  and  principles  by  which  the  members  of  the  Established 
Church  ought  to  be  actuated,  so  as  to  promote  the  general 
purposes  of  benevolence  specified  in  the  text. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  nothing  less  Christian  than  to 
wish  that  the  same  penalties  and  deprivations  of  civil  rights 
should  remain,  as  a  sort  of  degrading  badge,  upon  those  who 
differ  from  the  Established  Church.  Whether  the  necessity 
for  their  continuation  still  exists,  is  another  question ;  but  if  it 
does,  to  continue  them  is  a  duty,  not  a  pleasure  ;  it  is  not  a 
triumph  to  be  sought,  but  a  melancholy  and  an  hateful  task  to 
be  performed ;  for  to  a  genuine  Christian  it  is  always  an  hateful 
task  to  abridge  the. natural  rights  of  any  human  being,  to  re- 
press his  industry,  to  damp  his  honest  ambition,  and  to  make 
him  a  stranger  in  the  land  of  his  birth.  As  I  love  to  worship 
God  according  to  my  own  conceptions  of  real  religion,  I  love 
that  every  man  should  do  the  same ;  as  I  wish  that  all  the 
honours  and  advantages  of  the  realm  were  laid  fairly  open  to 
my  competition,  I  most  ardently  wish  (if  the  safety  of  the 
state  will  admit  of  it),  that  they  could  be  laid  open  to  the  com- 
petition of  every  man,  let  his  faith  be  what  it  may.  I  have 
no  more  pleasure  in  depriving  an  human  being  of  his  civil 
freedom,  than  in  depriving  him  of  the  blessings  of  light  an4 
of  air.  It  is  not  impossible  but  that  the  safety  of  the  state  may 
require  the  continuation  of  such  odious  restrictions,  but  I 
would  exact  the  most  convincing  proofs  that  such  necessity 
did  reaUy  exist ;  and  I  should  look  upon  it  as  the  most  sacred 
of  all  duties,  and  the  most  exalted  of  all  pleasures,  to  mark 
that  moment  when  the  public  safety  could  be  rendered  com- 
patible with  complete  freedom  in  religion.  The  spirit  to  be 
blamed,  is  the  indecent  joy  and  exultation,  that  other  men  are 
still  continued  in  a  state  of  bondage  ;  the  love  of  being  free, 
the  dread  lest  others  should  be  as  free ;  the  narrow  and  peril- 
ous notion  that  every  privation  we  can  heap  upon  those  who 
do  not  subscribe  to  its  doctrines,  is  so  much  of  soHd  gain  for 
the  Established  Church. 

It  is  contended  that  to  deprive  a  man  of  the  opportunity 
of  attaining  to  certain  honours  in  the  state,  is  not  persecution ^ 
to  torture  and  to  destroy  for  religious  opinions  is  wrong ;  tQ 
block  up  the  road  to  political  power  for  the  same  reason  is  not 
wrong,  and  cannot  be  called  by  the  name   of  persecution. 


ON  TOLERATION.  219 

The  plain  answer  to  which  error  is  this :  you  have  no  right 
to  prohibit  any  pleasure,  or  to  inflict  any  pain,  without  an 
adequate  reason ;  you  have  no  right  to  defeat  an  human  being 
in  the  meanest  of  all  his  wishes,  unless  you  can  show  that  an 
adequate  good  is  obtained  to  the  community  by  so  doing: 
much  more  are  you  bound,  in  rendering  a  particular  mode  of 
faith  a  cause  of  perpetual  degradation,  to  show  what  those 
reasons  are,  which  justify  you  in  such  an  inroad  upon  the 
liberties  of  mankind  ;  if  this  cannot  be  done,  such  exclusions 
are  persecutions  of  the  grossest  nature  ;  and  all  honest  and 
enUghtened  Christians  are  bound  to  strive  for  their  extinction. 
It  seems  to  be  a  want  of  candour  in  our  Establishment  to 
presume  that  time  has  produced  no  changes  for  the  better  in 
the  spirit  of  any  other  religion.  Though  we  ourselves  are 
in  great  measure  indebted  to  experience,  and  to  the  progress 
of  civilization  for  that  moderation  by  which  we  are  distin- 
guished, we  conceive  that  the  great  book  of  observation  has 
been  shut  to  all  other  sects  ;  that  age  has  rolled  on  after  age, 
without  lightening  their  ancient  darkness,  or  softening  their 
early  zeal.  Availing  ourselves  of  all  the  knowledge,  all  the 
tranquillity,  and  all  the  improvement  we  have  gathered  for 
three  centuries ;  painting  ourselves  as  the  world  is  at  this 
present  day ;  we  ask  if  the  Catholic  and  the  Calvinist  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  with  all  the  cruelty,  madness  and  ignorance 
of  that  period,  are  fit  to  be  put  upon  a  level  with  the  enlight- 
ened member  of  the  Establishment,  and  to  be  restored  to  the 
exercise  of  their  natural  rights  ?  We  oppose  a  creature  of 
fact  to  a  creature  of  history;  and  derive  the  advantage  of  our 
comparisons  from  the  unfairness  of  the  period  at  which  they 
are  made.  The  fact  is,  the  written  doctrine  remains  the  same ; 
the  book  is  as  it  was  before ;  that  no  sect  ever  alters  ;  but  with 
the  same  words  in  his  mouth,  the  man  may  possess  a  very 
different  heart ;  and  repeating  phrases  of  persecution,  may  be 
really  actuated  by  the  spirit  of  peace.  We  are  therefore 
bound  in  justice  to  consider,  not  what  is  said  by  other  sects, 
but  what  is  done  ;  not  to  seize  upon  lifeless  and  antiquated 
doctrines,  which  they  have  been  too  proud,  too  timid,  and  too 
careless  to  expunge  ;  but  to  mark  their  religion  both  where  it 
is  in  subjection,  and  where  it  is  in  power,  and  to  gather  its 
real  character  from  its  general  spirit.  This  we  expect  that 
other  religions  should  do  to  us  ;  this  other  religions  have  a 
right  to  expect  we  should  do  to  them. 
^  It  would  tend  to  promote  peace  and  prevent  confusion  (the 


220  ON  TOLERATION. 

great  object  of  my  text),  if  the  Establishment  had  a  just  confi- 
dence in  its  own  strength,  and  a  manly  ease  and  security,  the 
consequence  of  that  confidence.  Does  it  behove  so  learned, 
so  opulent,  so  pious,  so  moral  a  body  of  men,  to  tremble  for 
this  vast  and  venerable  Establishment,  as  if  it  were  a  little 
sickly  heresy  that  had  sprung  up  yesterday  in  the  brain  of 
some  distempered  enthusiast?  Do  the  names  and  the  writ- 
ings of  the  English  clergy  go  for  so  little  ?  do  time  and  habit 
produce  such  trifling  effects  upon  the  minds  of  men  ?  is  pro- 
perty of  such  little  avail  ?  have  learning  and  argument  such 
shallow  resources,  that  the  Church  cannot  endure  the  slight- 
est extension  of  freedom  to  those  out  of  its  own  pale,  though 
it  did  exist  a  whole  century  before  the  freedom  of  these  men 
was  in  the  sHghtest  degree  diminished?  Those  who  have 
lively  and  irritable  feehngs  for  the  safety  of  the  Church  must 
admire  that  for  which  they  fear  so  much ;  their  admiration 
is  wise  and  just,  but  how  is  it  consistent  with  their  belief  in 
its  rapid  frailty  and  decay  ?  The  truth  is,  it  is  not  frail  and 
not  perishable.  If  "  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against 
it,"  it  will  never  be  dashed  to  pieces  against  the  rock  of 
justice.  It  is  strong  enough  to  sufter  all  men  to  be  free,  and 
to  disdain  all  other  aid  than  that  which  it  gains  from  teaching 
and  from  acting  well. 

The  last  twenty  years  of  an  history  have  been  honourably 
distinguished  by  the  innumerable  laws  of  persecution  they 
have  repealed,  and  the  comparative  freedom  they  have  ex- 
tended to  every  description  of  Christians.  At  every  stage  of 
toleration,  the  destruction  of  the  Established  Church  has  been 
foretold ;  which  never  was  more  powerful  or  more  justly  re- 
spected, than  at  this  moment.  Is  there  any  human  being 
who  wishes  to  put  religious  toleration  on  the  same  footing  it 
was  at  the  beginning  of  this  period,  and  to  deprive  us  of  all 
the  advantages  of  that  liberal  policy  which  has  distinguished 
the  present  reign  ?  The  moment  the  restriction  is  thrown 
down  all  men  wonder  that  it  was  ever  reared  up,'tnat  it  was 
continued  so  long,  or  deemed  so  important.  When  persecu- 
tion is  put  an  end  to,  it  is  represented  as  useless  or  cruel: 
while  it  exists,  it  is  praised  as  wise  in  its  policy,  and  whole- 
some in  its  consequences. 

It  is  the  duty  of  every  member  of  the  Establishment,  before 
he  gives  his  assent  to  the  continuation  of  such  penal  laws,  to 
take  care  that  he  is  not  led  away  by  inflammatory  names. 
All  names  by  which  sectaries  are  denoted,  are  become  terms 


<5N  TOLERATION.  22 1 

df  passion  and  reproach ;  and  the  very  expressions  of  Papist, 
Catholic  and  Presbyterian  are,  in  the  majority  of  instances, 
sufficient  to  decide  opinion.  These  bad  and  hurtful  notions 
are  imbibed  so  early,  and  sink  so  deep,  that  the  subject  of 
religious  difference  is  that  of  all  others  where  a  man  of  prin- 
ciple ought  the  most  to  suspect  his  own  reason.  The  tenets 
of  the  Catholic  faith  are,  I  mu^t  say,  in  many  instances,  such 
as  common  sense  revolts  at  J  but  many  of  the  greatest  and 
best  men  that  ever  lived  have  been  Catholics ;  the  common 
endearments  of  life  go  on  with  them  as  with  us  ;  great  and 
civilized  nations  have,  under  the  auspices  of  that  rehgion. 
Carried  the  arts  of  life  to  the  highest  pitch  of  refinement. 
Blaming  that  religion  cordially,  dissenting  from  it  totally, 
wishing  to  inspire  them  with  our  better  and  purer  knowledge 
of  the  Gospel,  it  is  impossible  to  cry  down  its  followers  as  men 
unworthy  to  be  trusted  by  the  state,  and  as  unfit  for  all  the 
offices  of  civil  fife ;  it  is  impossible  to  pour  forth  one  sweeping 
clause  of  anathema  and  proscription  against  the  greater  half 
of  the  civilized  world,  and  to  contend  that  we  are  the  only  in- 
fallible judges  of  error  and  of  truth.  The  Establishment  is 
not  guarded  by  such  practices  as  these ;  but  disgraced  and 
humbled  in  the  estimation  of  those  reflecting  persons  who 
ought  to  be  cultivated  as  its  best  and  warmest  friends. 

I  must  add  that  nothing  can  be  more  injurious  to  the  true 
interests  of  the  Church,  than  to  mingle  its  name  with  the  po- 
litical factions  of  the  day,  and  to  lend  its  authority  to  any 
purpose  of  individual  ambition.  If  it  is  done  by  one  party  in 
politics,  it  will  soon  be  imitated  by  the  other ;  we  shall  then 
become  a  mere  tool,  to  answer  the  purposes  of  two  opposite 
factions;  and  the  dearest  interests  of  mankind  will  be  sacri- 
ficed to  the  vilest  of  all  purposes.  This  is  the  true  way  first 
to  disgrace  a  church  establishment;  and  then,  (when  it  has 
incurred  universal  contempt,)  to  destroy  it. 

Some  feelings  of  generosity  we  might  display  towards 
other  sects,  from  the  recollection  that  we  are  the  strongest, 
that  we  are  endowed,  that  we  are  protected ;  that  we  have 
the  favour  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  and  the  counte- 
nance and  support  of  the  law.  It  would  be  charitable  to  re- 
member, that  these  things  must  be  galling  to  those  who  have 
as  firm  a  conviction  in  the  truth  and  superiority  of  the  creed 
as  we  can  possibly  have  of  ours.  The  beautiful  spirit,  and 
the  true  policy  are,  to  allay  the  httle  jealousy  our  advantages 
must  occasion,  to  soften  these  mortifying  distinctions  by  every 

19* 


222  ON  TOLERATION. 

amiable  concession,  and  by  every  charitable  judgment :  not 
to  inflame  a  painful  sense  of  inferiority  into  a  furious  hatred ; 
not  wantonly  to  insult  other  Christians,  or  needlessly  to  de- 
press them ;  but  cheerfully  and  eagerly  to  impart  to  them 
every  advantage  with  which  the  security  of  the  EstabHshment 
can  possibly  be  rendered  compatible. 

Piety  and  honesty  are  always  venerable,  with  whatever 
degree  of  error  they  happen  to^e  connected.  Far  from  con- 
sidering the  sectarian  clergy  as  objects  of  ridicule,  contempt, 
and  persecution,  it  is  impossible  to  witness  their  laborious 
exertions  for  what  they  believe  to  be  the  truth,  their  poverty, 
the  insignificance  and  obscurity  in  which  they  pass  their 
lives,  without  experiencing  for  them  very  sincere  sentiments 
both  of  pity  and  respect. 

It  is  now  time,  however,  that  I  should  close  what  I  have  to 
say  upon  this  very  important  subject.  It  cannot,  I  am  sure, 
be  necessary  to  apologize  for  any  sentiments  calculated  to 
inspire  mankind  with  the  spirit  of  religious  charity,  and  to 
remind  them,  that  the  God  of  us  all,  is  the  God  not  "  of 
confusion,  but  of  peace."  If  a  religious  establishment  were 
nothing  but  a  barbarous  and  monastic  institution ;  if  it  were 
merely  an  human  institution ;  it  might  be  necessary  to  prop  it 
up  with  penal  laws,  narrow  jealousies,  and  political  factions. 
Such  unworthy  arts  might  for  a  little  time  retard  its  deserved 
fate  ;  but  convinced  as  I  am  that  in  the  uninterrupted  order  of 
its  prelates  it  is  of  apostoHcal  origin,  that  in  its  human  arrange- 
ments and  provisions  it  is  founded  upon  the  sohd  basis  of  good 
sense  and  public  utihty,  I  am  sure  it  wants  no  such  aids  as 
these.  The  more  liberal  the  spirit  it  displays  when  any  great 
question  of  human  happiness  is  at  stake  ;  the  more  noble  that 
disposition  which  it  exhibits  towards  all  other  descriptions  of 
Christians ;  the  less  it  suffers  itself  to  be  contaminated  by 
faction,  and  be  duped  by  party  ;  by  all  that  it  increases  in  learn- 
ing, in  piety,  and  in  good  conduct ;  by  all  this  will  it  concili- 
ate universal  affection,  be  raised  in  real  dignity,  and  increase 
in  permanent  strength.  These  are  the  real  means  of  secu- 
rity, and  the  only  true  art  of  continuing  and  protecting  reli- 
gion in  the  w^orld.  One  man  dies,  and  another  is  born  ;  but 
public  opinion  under  God  settles  the  fate  of  all  human  insti- 
tutions; blaming  and  degrading  the  works  of  violence  ;  loving, 
honouring,  strengthening  and  sanctifying  the  deeds  of  justice, 
the  spirit  of  charity,  and  the  establishments  of  peace. 


■^K^ 


SERMON   XXXII. 

ON    VANITY. 

Behold  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit. — Ecclesiastes  i.  verse  14. 

Those  vices  are  not  always  the  most  dangerous  which  are 
the  most  rapid  of  operation,  but  as  effects  strike  the  senses 
most  where  they  follow  immediately  from  their  causes,  such 
vices  have  been  more  accurately  observed,  and  more  clearly 
explained,  than  any  others.  In  the  mean  time,  there  are 
many  habits  of  thought  httle  noticed,  and  little  feared,  which 
pollute  no  less  effectually  the  springs  of  the  heart,  and  destroy 
the  purity  of  religion.  We  shudder  at  falsehood,  at  ingrati- 
tude, at  neglect  of  serious  duties,  at  hardness  of  heart ;  we 
look  at  vanity  with  a  smile  of  contempt,  at  the  vanity  of 
the  young  and  gay,  with  a  smile  of  indulgence  ;  it  seems  to 
our  improvident  view  an  harmless  plant,  that  has  got  up  in 
the  luxuriant  soil  of  youth,  and  will  quickly  wither  away  in 
more  mature  age  ;  in  the  mean  time,  up  it  chmbs,  and  stran- 
gles in  its  grasp  the  towering  and  lordly  passions  of  the 
soul. 

I  mean  by  vanity,  the  excessive  love  of  praise,  an^  I  call  it 
excessive,  whenever  it  becomes  a  motive  to  action ;  for  to  make 
men  indifferent  to  the  praise  of  their  fellow-creatures,  as  a 
consequence  of  their  actions,  is  not,  that  I  know  of,  anywhere 
enjoined  by  our  sacred  religion,  nor  would  it  be  wise  if  it 
were  possible. 

The  vanity  of  great  men,  when  it  stimulates  them  to  ex- 
ertions, useful  to  mankind,  is  that  species  of  vanity,  which 
seems  to  approach  the  nearest  to  virtue,  and  which  we  most 
readily  pardon  for  its  effects  ;  and,  indeed,  so  much  are  we 
inclined  to  view  actions  by  their  splendour,  or  their  import- 
ance, rather  than  by  their  motives,  that  we  can  hardly  agree 


224  ON  VANITY. 

to  call  by  the  name  of  vain,  a  man  who  has  exercised  con- 
summate and  successful  abihty  upon  great  objects  ;  whereas, 
there  is  a  vanity  of  great,  and  a  vanity  of  Httle  minds,  and 
the  same  passion  regulates  a  ceremony  which  saves  or  ruins 
a  kingdom.  It  is  better,  to  be  sure,  that  good  (if  it  cannot 
be  done  from  the  best),  should  be  done  from  any  motive,  rather 
than  not  be  done  at  all ;  but  the  dignity  of  the  fact  can  never 
communicate  purity  to  the  intention.  True  rehgion  consists 
not  only  in  action,  but  in  the  mind  with  which  we  act ;  and 
the  highest  beneficence,  which  flows  from  vanity,  though  it 
may  exalt  us  in  the  eyes  of  men,  abases  us  in  the  view  of 
God. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  this  versatile  passion  of  vanity,  in 
all  the  forms  under  which  it  loves  to  exist;  every  shape, 
every  colour,  every  attitude  becomes  it  ahke ;  sometimes  it  is 
a  virtue,  and  sometimes  a  decency,  and  sometimes  a  vice  ; 
it  gives  birth  to  the  man  of  refined  manners,  the  profligate, 
the  saint,  and  the  hero ;  it  plays  with  the  toy  of  the  child ;  it 
totters  on  the  crutch  of  age  ;  it  lingers  on  the  bed  of  sickness, 
and  gathers  up  its  last  strength  to  die  with  decent  effect  amidst 
the  plaudits  of  the  world.  The  fall  of  great  cities,  the  waste 
of  beautiful  provinces,  the  captivity  of  nations,  the  groans 
and  bleedings  of  the  earth.  Whence  have  they  sprung  ? 
that  folly  might  worship,  that  fame  might  record,  that  the 
world  might  look  on,  and  wonder ;  for  these  feelings  men 
have  embittered  life,  accelerated  death,  and  abjured  eternity. 
But  with  these  vast  scenes,  I  have  nothing  to  do  here ;  to 
common  life,  and  ordinary  occasions,  I  must  at  present  con- 
fine myself. 

One  of  the  great  evils  of  vanity  is,  that  it  induces  hardness 
of  heart.  Compassion  must  have  exercise,  or  it  will  cease  to 
exist ;  th^  mind  cannot  be  engrossed  at  once  by  two  opposite 
systems  of  hopes  and  fears.  If  we  are  occupied  by  the  con- 
sideration of  what  the  world  will  think  on  every  occasion, 
there  is  no  leisure  for  reflection  on  those  solemn  duties  which 
we  owe  to  our  fellow-creatures  ;  duties  which  God  has  not 
trusted  to  reason  only,  but  towards  which  he  has  warned  us 
by  compassion  and  inward  feeling.  These  feeHngs  soon 
cease  to  admonish,  when  they  are  unheeded,  and  the  voice  of 
humanity,  when  it  has  often  spoken  in  vain,  speaks  no  more. 
Soon  the  cry  of  him  who  wants  bread  will  come  up  no  longer 
to  your  ear ;  soon  you  will  turn  from  the  sad  aspect  of  age, 


-I 


ON  VANITV.  225 

and  your  heart  will  become  shut  to  the  miseries  of  man,  never 
again  to  be  opened. 

The  havoc  which  vanity  makes  on  the  social  feelings,  is 
as  conspicuous  as  that  which  it  exercises  on  those  of  compas- 
sion. One  of  the  most  painful  symptoms  it  produces,  is  an 
impatience  of  home.  The  vain  man  has  no  new  triumphs  to 
make  over  his  family,  or  his  kindred  ;  their  society  becomes 
tedious,  and  insupportable  to  him ;  he  flies  to  every  public 
circle  for  rehef,  where  the  hope  of  being  admired  lightens 
up  in  him  that  gayety  which  never  beams  on  those  who 
ought  to  be  the  nearest  to  his  heart.  Thus  it  is,  that  the 
lives  of  many  in  great  cities  are  passed  in  crowds,  and  frittered 
away  in  a  constant  recurrence  of  the  same  frivolous  amuse- 
ments ;  after  the  poignant  gratifications  of  vanity,  every  other 
species  of  sensation  becomes  insipid ;  the  mind  shrinks  from 
duty,  and  from  improvement,  and  the  whole  character  becomes 
trifling  and  degraded.  It  is  easy  to  misrepresent  these  obser- 
vations, by  supposing  them  to  be  leveled  against  pleasure, 
and  amusement  in  general ;  whereas,  it  is  not  only  lawful  to 
enjoy  the  innocent  pleasures  of  society  in  moderation ;  but  it 
is  unwise  not  to  enjoy  them.  That  pleasure  only  is  to  be 
censured  which  becomes  a  business,  and  corrupts  the  heart 
instead  of  exhilarating  the  spirits.  Dignity  of  character  is  a 
very  subtle  thing,  and  as  the  guardian  of  many  virtues, 
should  be  carefully  preserved ;  but  if  there  be  any  fault 
which  extinguishes  amiable  and  pious  sentiment,  hardens 
the  heart,  destroys  delicacy  of  manners,  and  wipes  ofl*  all 
bloom  and  freshness  from  the  mind,  it  is  constant  and  eter- 
nal dissipation.  The  very  essence  of  pleasure  is  rarity  ; 
admiration  too  eagerly  pursued,  leads  infallibly  to  contempt ; 
and  the  qualities  which  produce  the  greatest  effect,  are  al- 
ways those  of  which  the  possessor  is  the  most  profoundly 
ignorant. 

It  is  so  little  the  habit  of  mankind  in  general,  to  look  to 
the  consequences  of  things,  that  vanity  has  been  strangely 
denominated  an  innocent  foible  ;  and  yet  there  is  not  a  single 
virtue  which  it  does  not  degrade,  nor  a  single  vice  to  which 
it  does  not  lead.  Look  to  the  many  families  reduced  to  ruin 
from  ostentatious  expense  ;  the  profligate  who  is  debauched, 
that  the  world  may  applaud  his  spirit ;  the  Deist  who  laughs 
and  trembles ;  the  atheist  who  prays  in  secret ;  the  weak  tribe 
who  follow  fortune,  and  hate  the  unhappy  ;  age  lingering  in 
the  haunts  of  pleasure,  and  summoned  from  the  feast  to  the 


326^  ON  VANITY. 

grave  ;  see  ruined  women,  and  mistaken  sages ;  beautiful 
talents,  heroic  qualities,  and  princely  virtues  sunk  down  to 
the  dust,  and  the  sad  fall  of  men,  whom  nature  sent  forth  to 
rule,  to  enHghten,  and  to  adorn  the  world.  This  is  the  evil 
which  the  wise  man  saw,  and  said  that  the  earth  was  filled 
with  it,  that  all  things  were  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit. 

Vanity  is  not  only  a  dangerous  passion,  but  it  is  an  absurd 
passion ;  as  it  does  not  in  general  attain  the  end  it  proposes 
to  itself.  The  way  to  gain  wealth  is  to  seek  it.  Learning 
is  only  acquired  by  constant  and  eager  labour ;  but  to  gain 
praise,  you  must  be  indifferent  in  it ;  for  the  rule  of  commen- 
dation is,  and  ought  to  be,  the  very  reverse  of  the  rule  of 
charity;  to  give  most  to  those  who  want  it  least,  and  thus  by 
ill  success  to  teach  a  better  motive  to  action.  Vanity  is  every 
day  detected  and  disgraced ;  we  know  men  who  believe  them- 
selves to  be  objects  of  universal  admiration,  while  in  fact  they 
are  objects  of  universal  contempt ;  we  see  how  difficult  it  is 
to  conceal  the  passion,  or  prevent  the  ridicule  consequent  upon 
it;  yet  we  are  vain,  and  believe  that  acute  malice  will  be 
blind  for  us  alone. 

A  vain  man  looks  more  to  the  pleasure  than  the  means  of 
triumph,  and  experiences  defeat,  because  he  sings  the  song  of 
victory  while  he  should  be  spreading  his  ranks  for  the  battle. 
If  he  succeed,  he  loses  even  the  inaccurate  measure  of  himself 
which  he  before  possessed,  attempts  greater,  and  still  greater 
achievements,  and  is  sure  at  last  to  fail,  because  it  is  the 
easiest  of  all  things  to  find  difficulties  superior  to  human 
powers. 

It  must  be  from  the  most  lamentable  want  of  self-exami- 
nation, that  this  vice  is  ever  found  in  the  Christian  mind. 
Christianity  consists  not  only  in  what  we  do,  and  in  what 
we  avoid,  but  in  the  sentiments  we  encourage,  and  the  habits 
of  thinking  we  gradually  acquire.  A  vain  Christian  may 
have  faith,  and  he  may  have  conformity ;  he  may  worship 
and  believe,  but  where  is  his  humble  soul,  his  mild  and 
steady  wisdom,  and  his  awful  sense  of  the  ever-during  pre- 
sence of  God  ?  These  are  the  sweet  virtues  on  which  this 
worm  of  vanity  pastures,  and  these  the  miserable  relics  of 
Christianity  which  it  leaves  behind. 

A  very  vain  person  is  very  seldom  a  very  happy  person ; 
he  lives  under  no  certain  law ;  the  rule  of  his  conduct  is  the 
caprice  of  those  with  whom  he  lives  ;  he  never  knows  to-day, 
what  he  is  to  do  to-morrow,  and  is  constantly  acting  a  part 


ON  VANITY,  227 

before  an  audience  who  become  difficult  to  please,  in  pro- 
portion as  he  is  desirous  to  please  them  ;  he  lives  in  constant 
perturbation,  and  is  ever  flushed  with  triumph  or  pale  with 
despair ;  he  is  a  slave  in  essence  who  feels  that  he  has  not 
dignity  to  be  free,  and  erects  every  man  he  meets  into  a  master 
and  a  lord. 

A  religious  man  enjoys  the  supreme  comfort  of  living  under 
general  rules  ;  he  is  ever  dignified,  because  ever  consistent ; 
he  avoids  the  misery  of  doubt,  and  follows  a  clear  line  of  con- 
duct through  all  times,  and  seasons,  and  events.  While  the 
world  are  in  good  humour  with  him,  he  enjoys  their  praise 
as  an  accidental  good,  though  he  never  seeks  it  as  an  ultimate 
object ;  if  the  rectitude  of  his  motives  be  not  understood,  he 
wraps  himself  in  his  virtue,  and  gazes  from  the  temple  of 
conscience  at  the  storm  which  ravages  beneath ;  the  will  of 
God  is  the  guide  of  his  life,  and  he  moves  through  this  earth 
with  fear  and  fortune  beneath  his  feet,  and  with  Heaven  open 
to  his  view. 

This  love  of  praise,  so  strongly  infixed  in  our  nature,  it  is 
rather  our  duty  to  direct  than  to  extinguish.  The  excellence, 
which  requires  neither  to  be  encouraged  nor  corrected,  exists 
not  in  the  world ;  the  commendation  or  censure  of  enlight- 
ened men,  is,  perhaps,  the  best  test  here  below  of  the  purity 
and  wisdom  of  what  we  intend,  and  the  propriety  and  success 
of  what  we  do ;  and  a  wise  man  will  always  make  this  use 
of  the  decisions  of  the  world ;  when  he  is  blamed,  he  will  lis- 
ten with  sacred  modesty  to  the  collected  wisdom  of  many 
men,  he  will  measure  back  his  footsteps  on  the  path  of  fife, 
and  whichever  way  he  decides,  he  will  know  that  he  has 
either  obtained  success  or  deserved  it ;  he  will  receive  praise 
as  a  probable,  not  as  a  certain  evidence  that  he  is  right ;  nay, 
he  will  do  more,  he  will  rejoice  in  the  approbation  of  his  fel- 
low-creatures ;  every  feehng  of  his  heart  will  expand  ;  it  will 
cheer  him  in  his  long  struggle,  and  dissipate  that  melancholy 
which  the  best  sometimes  feel  at  the  triumph  of  folly,  and  the 
fortune  of  vice. 

I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  convince  you  of  the  danger  of 
this  widely  difiused  and  little-suspected  passion  of  vanity, 
and  I  have  attempted  also  to  show  you  that  it  injures  the 
understanding,  that  it  injures  the  heart,  that  it  injures  the 
Christian  character,  that  it  defeats  its  own  end,  and,  while  it 
sues  for  admiration,  often  insures  contempt.  Be  it  your  care 
to  watch  its  baneful  influence,  and  to  live  from  nobler  motives. 


228  ON  VANITY. 

If  you  wish  for  the  praise  of  man,  cease  to  pursue  it ;  live 
that  life  which,  sooner  or  later,  leads  to  honour  in  this  world, 
and  to  eternity  in  the  next ;  he  just,  be  modest,  he  charitable ; 
love  dearly  your  fellow-creatures,  and  number  your  days  by 
the  miseries  you  have  lessened,  and  the  blessings  you  have 
diffused.  Study  your  own  heart  with  the  patience  of  a  Chris- 
tian ;  coolly  mark,  and  steadily  resist  the  tendency  to  wrong. 
Let  wisdom  ever  increase  with  decay,  and  the  soul  gather 
new  light  as  its  covering  crumbles  into  dust ;  this  is  the  life 
which  will  more  effectually  secure  to  you  the  sweets  of  praise 
than  all  the  toils  and  all  the  vexations  of  vanity ;  you  will 
reign  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  move  amongst  them  hke  the 
angel  of  wisdom  and  peace ;  and  when,  in  the  fullness  of 
years,  and  in  the  fullness  of  honours,  you  rest  for  the  short 
sabbath  of  the  tomb,  the  cold,  dull  earth  which  falls  upon 
your  bier,  shall  be  a  cruel  sound  to  the  wretched  and  the 
good ;  a  whole  city  shall  gather  round  your  grave,  and  weep 
over  their  guide,  their  father,  and  their  friend. 


tS^l^ri^, 


SERMON    XXXIII. 
ON   SUICIDE. 

Saul  took  a  sword,  and  fell  upon  it. — 1st  Book  of  Samuel  xxxi.  verse  4. 

It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  a  more  melancholy  picture  of 
suicide  and  despair  than  that  which  is  exhibited  in  the  latter 
end  of  Satil ;  "  and  the  battle  went  sore  against  Saul,  and  the 
archers  hit  him,  and  he  was  sore  wounded  by  the  archers  : 
Then  said  Saul  unto  his  armour  bearer,  draw  thy  sword,  and 
thrust  me  through  therewith ;  but  his  armour  bearer  would 
not,  therefore  Saul  took  a  sword,  and  fell  upon  it."  In  this 
way  did  Saul  shrink  from  adversity ;  he  went  forth  glorying 
in  his  majesty,  the  anointed  of  the  Lord,  king  over  the  cho- 
sen people  of  God ;  the  battle  turns  against  him  ;  he  is  sore 
wounded  of  the  archers,  and,  forgetful  of  that  all-seeing  eye, 
which  looks  down  upon  the  smitten  and  afflicted  man,  he 
rushes  upon  voluntary  destruction,  and  seeks  in  death  a  cure 
for  the  anguish  of  wounds  and  the  shame  of  defeat. 

This  crime  of  self-murder,  thus  strikingly  exemplified  in 
the  death  of  Saul,  is  one  said  to  prevail  in  this  country  to  a 
greater  extent  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  European  world; 
whether  this  notion  be  true,  or  exaggerated,  the  crime  exists 
in  a  degree  sufficient  to  produce  misery  and  horror  to  many 
individuals ;  and  to  exhibit  to  the  world  at  large,  flagrant  ex- 
amples of  disobedience  to  the  will  of  Providence  ;  it  therefore 
exists  in  a  degree  to  justify  any  Christian  minister,  in  com- 
menting upon  it,  whose  object  is  to  promote  the  happiness  of 
his  fellow-creatures,  and  to  enforce  and  explain  the  commands 
of  that  heavenly  Master,  whose  servant  he  is. 

As  to  the  utility  of  such  discussion  if  principles  are  good 
and  sound,  if  remonstrance  is  founded  upon  pure  feelings  of 
rehgion,  men  sometimes  employ  it  to  prevent  the  excesses  of 
30 


230  ON  SUICIDE. 

passion,  and  sometimes  they  remember  it  in  the  midst  of 
passion ;  and,  if  a  sense  of  duty  can  restrain  avarice,  lust, 
anger,  and  revenge,  why  may  it  not  calm  the  madness  of 
despair,  and  induce  him  to  carry  on  the  load  of  life  who  pants 
and  wearies  for  the  grave  ;  at  all  events,  it  is  the  duty  of  a 
minister  to  diffuse  good  principles  without  doubting  but  that 
it  will  produce  good  consequences ;  to  scatter  the  seed,  whe- 
ther it  fall  among  tares,  or  upon  rocks,  or  whether  it  please 
God  to  give  it  fertihty  and  increase. 

If  we  consider  that  by  morality  is  meant  that  conduct  which 
promotes  the  general  happiness,  the  notion  that  self-murder 
is  lawful,  must  be  highly  immoral,  from  the  direct  tendency 
which  it  has  to  destroy  human  happiness  by  increasing  vice. 
The  object  of  religious  instruction  always  has  been  to  awaken 
the  attention  of  mankind  to  those  future  pleasures  even  in 
this  life,  which  proceed  from  the  exertions  of  righteousness ; 
and  to  those  future  pains  which  await  the  gratifications  of 
sin ;  its  object  has  been  not  to  debar  men  from  pleasure,  but 
to  make  them  acute  and  long-sighted  about  pleasure ;  to 
weaken  the  power  of  the  present  moment,  and  to  give  to 
futurity  that  just  influence  which  it  ought  to  have  upon  our 
determinations.  Now  the  firm  belief  that  we  have  no  lawful 
control  over  our  own  Hves,  that  it  is  our  indispensable  duty, 
under  every  circumstance  of  good  or  evil  fortune,  to  live  on  to 
the  last,  comes  directly  in  aid  of  these  views.  If  we  conceive 
that  (under  the  will  of  God),  we  must  live  to  the  common  period 
of  human  life,  it  is  probable  we  shall  make  some  provision  for 
future  health  of  body  and  peace  of  mind ;  the  necessity  of 
living  increases  the  chances  of  living  well ;  to  him  who  has 
threescore  and  ten  years  to  remain  upon  the  earth,  it  is  worth 
the  pains  to  cultivate  mankind,  to  love  virtue,  to  maintain 
justice  and  truth :  it  is  worth  the  pains  even  to  act  greatly 
and  splendidly;  it  gives  new  interest  to  the  game  of  life  to 
contend  for  honourable  fame,  and  to  be  a  guide  and  a  bene- 
factor to  mankind.  But  what  has  he  to  fear  or  hope  from 
man,  whose  own  hand  is  the  messenger  of  God,  and  can  tear 
him  from  life  more  surely  than  pestilence  or  pain  ?  Why 
should  he  quit  any  vice  which  gives  him  momentary  pleasure? 
Eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  you  die,  said  the  Apostle  ;  but 
these  are  narrow  limits  for  him  who  is  the  lord  of  his  own 
life. — Ruin,  injure  and  deceive,  for  to-morrow  you  die;  crowd 
infamy  upon  infamy;  add  horror  to  horror  ;  and  when  a 
ruined  body  and  a  restless  mind  tell  you  that  to-morrow  is 


ON  SUICIDE  .^  231 

come,  your  remedy  is  nigh  at  hand,  you  may  curse  God  and 
die. 

Our  Creator,  it  is  said,  has  given  us  a  general  desire  to 
obtain  good  and  avoid  evil ;  why  may  we  not  obey  this  im- 
pulse ?  We  leave  a  kingdom  or  a  society,  of  which  we  do 
not  approve ;  we  avoid  bodily  pain  by  all  the  means  which 
we  can  invent ;  why  may  we  not  cease  to  live  when  life  be- 
comes a  greater  evil  than  a  good  ?  Because  in  avoiding  pain 
or  in  procuring  pleasure,  we  are  always  to  consider  the  good 
of  others,  as  well  as  our  own.  Poverty  is  an  evil,  but  we  may 
not  rob  to  avoid  it ;  power  is  a  good,  but  it  is  not  justifiable 
to  obtain  it  by  violence  or  deceit;  we  have  only  a  right  to 
consult  our  own  good  within  certain  boundaries,  and  after 
such  a  manner  that  we  do  not  diminish  the  good  of  others  : 
Every  evil  incapable  of  such  limited  remedy,  it  is  our  duty  to 
bear ;  and  if  the  general  idea,  that  we  have  a  right  to  procure 
voluntary  death  to  ourselves,  be  pregnant  with  infinite  mis- 
chief to  the  interests  of  religion  and  morality,  it  is  our  duty  to 
hve,  as  much  as  it  is  our  duty  to  do  anything  else  for  the  same 
reason ;  a  single  instance  of  suicide  may  be  of  little  conse- 
quence ;  nor  is  a  single  instance  of  robbery  of  much ;  but  we 
judge  of  single  actions,  by  the  probability  there  is  of  their 
becoming  frequent,  and  by  the  eifects  they  produce  when 
they  are  frequent. 

Suicide  is  as  unfavourable  to  human  talents  and  resources 
as  it  is  to  human  virtues ;  we  should  never  have  dreamt  of 
the  latent  power  and  energy  of  our  nature,  but  for  the  strug- 
gle of  great  minds  with  great  afflictions,  nor  known  the  limits 
of  ourselves,  nor  man's  dominion  over  fortune.  What  would 
the  world  now  have  been,  if  it  had  always  been  said,  because 
the  archers  smite  me  sore  and  the  battle  goeth  against  me,  I 
will  die?  Alas  !  man  has  gained  all  his  joy  by  his  pains  ; 
misery,  hunger,  and  nakedness  have  been  his  teachers,  and 
goaded  him  on  to  the  glories  of  civilized  life  ;  take  from  him 
his  unyielding  spirit,  and  if  he  had  lived  at  all,  he  would 
have  hved  the  most  suffering  creature  of  the  forest. 

Suicide  has  been  called  magnanimity;  but  what  is  mag- 
nanimity? A  patient  endurance  of  evil  to  effect  a  proposed 
good  ;  and  when  considering  the  strange  mutability  of  human 
affairs,  are  we  to  consider  this  endurance  as  useless  or  when 
should  hope  terminate  but  with  life  ?  To  linger  out  year 
after  year,  unbroken  in  spirit,  unchanged  in  purpose,  is  doubt- 
less a  less  imposing  destiny  than  public  and  pompous  suicide; 


232  ON  SUICIDE. 

but  if  to  "be,  is  more  commendable  than  to  seem  to  be  ;  if  we 
love  the  virtue  better  than  the  name,  then  is  it  true  magna- 
nimity to  extract  wisdom  from  misery  and  doctrine  from 
shame  ;  to  call  day  and  night  upon  God  ;  to  keep  the  mind's 
eye  sternly  riveted  on  its  object  through  failure  and  through 
suffering ;  through  evil  report  and  through  good  report ;  and 
to  make  the  bed  of  death  the  only  grave  of  human  hope ;  but 
at  the  moment  when  Christianity  warns  you  that  your  pre- 
sent adversity  may  be  a  trial  from  God ;  when  experience 
teaches  that  great  qualities  come  in  arduous  situations ;  when 
piety  stimulates  you  to  show  the  hidden  vigour,  the  inex- 
haustible resources,  the  beautiful  capacities  of  that  soul  which 
God  has  exempted  from  the  destruction  which  surrounds  it ; 
at  that  moment  the  law  of  self-murder  gives  you  for  your 
resource,  ignominious  death,  frightful  disobedience,  and  never- 
ending  torments. 

It  may  be  imagined  that  suicide  is  a  crime  of  rare  occur- 
rence, but  we  must  not  so  much  overrate  our  love  of  hfe, 
when  there  is  hardly  a  passion  so  weak  which  cannot  at 
times  overcome  it ;  many  fling  away  life  from  ambition,  many 
from  vanity,  many  from  restlessness,  many  from  fear,  many 
from  almost  every  motive ;  nature  has  made  death  terrible, 
but  nature  has  made  those  evils  terrible,  from  the  dread  of 
which  we  seek  death ;  nature  has  made  resentment  terrible, 
infamy  terrible,  want  terrible,  hunger  terrible  ;  every  first 
principle  of  our  nature  alternately  conquers  and  is  conquered; 
the  passion  that  is  a  despot  in  one  mind,  is  a  slave  in  the 
other ;  we  know  nothing  of  their  relative  force. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  conceive  this  crime,  committed  by 
any  one  who  has  not  confounded  his  common  notions  of  right 
and  wrong  by  some  previous  sophistry,  and  cheated  himself 
into  a  temporary  skepticism ;  but  who  would  trust  to  the  rea- 
soning of  such  a  moment,  in  such  a  state  of  the  passions, 
when  the  probability  of  error  is  so  great,  and  the  punishment 
so  immeasurable  ?  Men  should  determine  even  upon  import- 
ant human  actions  with  coolness  and  unimpeded  thought ; 
much  less  then  is  a  rash  and  disturbed  hour  enough  for  eter- 
nity. Whoever  thought  of  agitating  such  a  question  without 
feeling  an  intolerable  weight  of  sin  upon  his  soul?  Whoever 
voluntarily  quitted  the  world,  at  peace  with  himself  and  with 
mankind  ?  All  is  passion  when  all  ought  to  be  trembling 
deliberation ;  when  you  are  abandoned  by  the  grace  of  God, 
when  you  are  compassed  round  about  with  the  awful  ven- 


ON  SUICIDE.  S33 

geance  of  man,  when  there  is  no  good  action  on  which  your 
soul  can  lean  and  rest,  when  you  are  become  a  desolation  and 
a  great  ruin,  that  is  the  very  moment  you  choose  to  rush  into 
eternity  before  the  God  of  purity  and  power. 

All  these  reasonings  are  of  universal  application ;  but  there 
are  still  stronger  reasons  for  him  who  has  bound  himself 
to  the  world  by  the  strong  ties  of  husband,  friend  or  parent. 
Suppose  that  Christianity  does  not  forbid  the  crime,  (which 
it  does  virtually  in  every  page  ;)  suppose  it  did  not  violate  in 
other  cases  the  intentions  of  Providence  by  breaking  the 
course  of  nature,  still  how  can  there  exist  the  right  to  inflict 
such  intolerable  wretchedness  upon  those  who  remain  behind, 
to  bequeath  to  them  an  horror  which  no  future  happiness  can 
ever  calm,  to  make  weak,  timid,  affectionate  minds  remember 
that  it  was  no  irresistible  disease  which  did  this,  that  it  was 
not  by  old  age  they  lost  their  protector,  that  they  never  took 
the  last  leave  of  you ;  but  that  in  an  hour  of  madness  you 
quitted  them  suddenly  and  cruelly,  and  that  in  a  world  to 
come  they  can  hope  to  see  you  no  more. 

It  is  painful  to  a  man  to  look  upon  a  family  that  he  has 
ruined,  and  to  mix  with  children  and  kindred  whom  he  has 
disgraced;  but  you  owe  it  to  them  to  keep  your  pride  low; 
you  owe  to  them  the  slow  and  dismal  task  of  repentance;  it 
is  your  duty  to  bear  the  compunction  of  shame,  and  the  lashes 
of  remorse;  to  feel  degraded  ;  to  live  and  to  get  better.  Those, 
too,  whose  reproaches  you  most  fear,  are  ready  to  bear  ruin 
and  disgrace  with  you ;  they  will  dry  up  your  tears  and  give 
you  dignity  and  peace  of  heart ;  but  the  way  which  a  self- 
murderer  reasons  is  :  "  Because  I  have  reduced  those  whom  I 
love  to  ruin  and  disgrace,  I  will  drive  them  to  despair;  I  have 
abstained  from  no  pleasures  for  the  sake  of  others,  and  I  will 
bear  no  pain  for  them;  I  will  perpetuate,  by  the  ignominy  of 
my  death,  all  that  wretchedness  which  I  have  caused  by  the 
crimes  of  my  life." 

It  has  often  been  asked,  if  self-murder  is  forbidden  by  the 
Christian  religion  ;  but  those  who  ask  this  question  forget 
that  Christianity  is  not  a  code  of  laws,  but  a  set  of  principles 
from  which  particular  laws  must  frequently  be  inferred;  it  is 
not  sufficient  to  say,  there  is  no  precise  and  positive  law, 
naming  and  forbidding  self-murder ;  there  is  no  law  of  the 
Gospel  which  forbids  the  subject  to  destroy  his  ruler ;  but 
there  is  a  law  which  says,  fear  and  obey  him ;  therp  is  no 

20* 


5J34  ON  SUICIDE. 

law  which  prevents  me  from  slaying  my  parents  ;  but  there 
is  a  law  which  says,  love  and  honour  them  ;  "  be  meek,"  says 
our  Saviour;  "be  long-suffering;  abide  patiently  to  the  last; 
submit  to  the  chastening  hand  of  God,"  and  let  us  never  for- 
get, that  the  fifth  and  greatest  gospel  is  the  life  of  Christ ;  that 
he  acted  for  us,  as  well  as  taught ;  that  in  the  deserts  of  Judea, 
in  the  hall  of  Pilate,  on  the  supreme  cross,  his  patience  shows 
us  that  evil  is  to  be  endured,  and  his  piety  and  his  prayers 
point  out  to  us  how  alone  it  can  be  mitigated. 

It  is  the  misfortune  of  those  who  plead  for  morality  and  re- 
ligion, that  they  can  seldom  intimidate  but  with  distant  evil, 
and  allure  but  with  distant  good ;  nevertheless,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  many  a  warning  precept,  little  noticed  perhaps  at  the 
time  it  is  heard,  lays  hid  in  the  soul,  to  start  forth  when  the 
snares  of  death  encompass  us  round  about,  and  the  pains  of 
hell  get  hold  upon  us.  I  am  well  convinced  that  there  is  not 
one  individual  in  this  solemn  assembly,  who  has  the  most 
remote  conception  that  he  can  ever  be  guilty  of  the  crime  of 
which  I  have  been  speaking ;  there  are  some,  perhaps  who 
may  consider  the  very  mention  of  it  as  useless  or  injudicious. 
So  thought  the  once  happy  and  prosperous  men,  who,  in  our 
days,  have  perished  by  their  own  hand ;  the  wealthy,  the 
noble  and  the  good  who  have  shocked  and  astonished  man- 
kind by  this  act  of  despair.  No  man  ought  to  say  that  his 
virtues  are  less  corruptible,  his  fortunes  more  lasting,  and  his 
fate  more  fixed  than  theirs  ;  all  these  said  that  years  of  glory 
and  peace  were  before  them ;  that  they  should  live  happily  ; 
that  they  should  go  down  in  quiet  to  the  grave.  Alas  !  the 
day  may  come,  when  the  noblest,  when  the  happiest,  when 
the  best  man  here  present,  who  now  wonders  that  such  a 
crime  should  exist  among  mankind,  shall  stand  trembhng  in 
the  twihght  of  life  and  death,  shall  say  to  the  sun,  "  I  shall 
see  thee  no  more;  and  to  the  face  of  nature,  farewell."  No 
man  ought  to  suppose  that  he  can  begin  the  swift  career  of 
unrighteousness,  and  stop  short  of  the  last  abyss.  No  gambler, 
no  adulterer,  no  restless  voluptuary,  no  man  who  drains  life 
of  the  last  dregs  of  pleasure,  can  ever  say  that  his  own  exist- 
ence is  secure  from  the  fierceness  of  his  passions ;  it  is  a 
lowered  and  a  chastened  heart,  which  makes  a  man  respect 
and  guard  his  own  life ;  a  belief  that  whether  he  is  a  beggar 
or  a  prince,  whether  he  is  tried  by  the  good,  or  tried  by  the 
evil  of  fife,  it  is  his  duty  to  remain  till  the  great  judge  bids 


ON  SUICIDE.  235 

him  depart.  That  he  owes  it  to  the  will  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  to  the  Christian  law,  to  worldly  endearments,  to  general 
utility,  to  individual  magnanimity,  to  hrave  every  vicissitude 
of  fortune,  while  he  extracts  from  those  vicissitudes  of  every 
nature,  and  in  every  degree,  fresh  sources  of  solid  improve- 
ment, and  new  occasions  for  pious  and  resigned  obedience  to 
the  will  of  God. 


w 


SERMON   XXXIV. 
ON   REVENGE; 


And  Esau  ran  to  meet  him,  and  embraced  him,  and  fell  upon  his  neck, 
and  kissed  him :  and  they  wept. — Genesis  xxxiii.  verse  4. 

The  injury  Esau  received  from  his  brother,  his  anger,  and 
the  flight  of  Jacob  consequent  upon  it,  form  the  first  part  of 
that  beautiful  story  of  Scripture,  of  which  my  text  is  the 
very  interesting  conclusion. 

After  an  absence  of  many  years,  Jacob,  who  had  fled  in 
poverty,  and  at  an  early  period  of  life,  from  his  native  coun- 
try, returns  the  father  of  many  children,  and  the  lord  of  much 
pastoral  wealth ;  returns,  however,  suffering  the  strongest 
apprehensions  from  the  deserved  resentment  of  his  brother 
Esau,  and  willing  to  allay  that  resentment,  by  a  very  consi- 
derable sacrifice  of  his  possessions.  "  And  Jacob  commanded 
his  servants  saying,  thus  shall  ye  speak  unto  my  lord  Esau, 
thy  servant  Jacob  sayeth  thus :  I  have  sojourned  with  Laban, 
and  stayed  there  until  now ;  and  I  have  oxen,  and  asses,  and 
men  servants,  and  maid  servants ;  and  I  have  sent  to  tell  my 
lord,  that  I  may  find  grace  in  thy  sight."  After  some  in 
terval,  the  history  brings  the  two  brothers  within  sight  of 
each  other.  "  And  Jacob  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  looked,  and 
behold  Esau  came,  and  with  him  four  hundred  men ;  and  he 
passed  over  before  them,  and  bowed  to  the  ground  seven 
times  until  he  came  near  to  his  brother."  Here  then  was  the 
moment  for  which  so  many  human  beings  pray  ;  the  foot  of 
Esau  was  upon  the  neck  of  his  enemy,  and  there  lay  stretched 
out  before  him  that  treacherous  brother  whom  in  bitterness 
he  had  often  cursed,  and  in  imagination  had  often  slain.  But 
in  all  his  anger,  he  had  never  thought  that  Jacob  would  kiss 
his  feet  for  mercy,  and  weep  on  the  ground  before  him ;  for 


ON  REVENGE.  237 

this  Esau  was  not  prepared,  but  ran  to  meet  Jacob,  and  em- 
braced him,  and  fell  on  his  neck  and  kissed  him,  and  they 
wept.  So  wept  the  much  injured  Joseph  over  his  cruel  bro- 
thers ;  so  weep  good  men  over  their  repentant  enemies  in  all 
ages,  and  in  all  climates  ;  Hstening  to  the  God  within  them, 
and  acting,  for  a  moment,  like  the  creatures  of  a  purer  world 
than  this. 

I  shall  take  occasion,  from  the  introduction  of  this  beautiful 
story  of  Esau,  to  treat  of  the  forgiveness  of  injuries  ;  pointing 
out  as  well  as  I  am  able,  the  most  common  obstacles,  and  the 
most  powerful  motives  to  the  acquisition  of  this  first  of  the 
Christian  faith. 

It  may  be  said,  consistently  with  the  strictest  truth,  that 
revenge  is  not  the  characteristic  fault  of  this  country.  Chris- 
tianity has  so  far  interwoven  its  precepts  in  our  habits  and 
manners,  that  we  have  commonly  the  fairest  disposition  to 
forgive.  The  unchristian  spirit  of  remembering,  and  resent- 
ing injury,  has  no  excuse  in  the  spirit  of  the  nation  or  the 
age  ; — it  derives  no  colour  from  reflection,  no  malignity  from 
example  ;  it  is  original,  native,  individual  badness. 

The  most  obvious  motive  to  forgive,  is  the  pleasure  of  for- 
giving, and  the  pain  of  resenting.  It  is  not  meant  by  this, 
that  there  is  no  pain  which  accompanies  the  pleasure  of  for- 
giveness ;  or  no  pleasure  mingled  with  the  pain  of  resentment ; 
but  the  pain  of  forgiving  is  of  short  duration;  the  pleasure 
ever  recurring  ;  causing  a  man  to  love  and  respect  himself; 
breathing  a  satisfaction  over  the  whole  of  life  ;  remembered 
the  hour  before  dissolution,  offered  up  to  God  as  an  atonement 
for  sin; — thought  of  in  sickness,  in  pain,  and  in  all  the  mise- 
ries of  the  flesh,  when  power  is  forgotten  and  glory  despised. 

In  the  same  way  there  is  some  sort  of  pleasure  in  resent- 
ment ;  when  tears  and  wounds  break  out  afresh,  at  the  sight 
of  some  accursed  oppressor,  it  is  hard  to  raise  this  man  from 
the  ground,  and  to  give  to  him  the  words  of  comfort,  and  the 
kiss  of  peace.  But  remember  the  laws  by  which  our  nature 
is  controlled ;  when  we  have  shed  the  blood  of  him  who  was 
our  enemy,  when  we  have  broken  down  his  stateliness,  and 
made  him  a  taunt  and  a  reproach,  we  shall  be  turned  to 
mercy,  and  our  tears  will  fall  down  over  his  wretchedness  ; 
our  anger  will  come  back  no  more,  and  we  shall  mourn  over 
the  desolation  of  our  hands.  When  we  have  humbled  all 
that  we  have  wished  to  humble,  and  destroyed  all  that  we 
lusted  to  destroy,— when  we  cease  to  be  supported  by  strong 


238  ON  REVENGE. 

passions, — when  we  cannot  retract  or  repair,  we  shall  begiii 
to  repent. 

Again,  common  observation  upon  human  character  shows 
us,  that  great  schemes  of  resentment  always  give  way ;  no 
man  can  hate  for  a  whole  life  ;  the  passion  which  seemed 
immortal,  is  at  length  swept  off  by  the  current  of  impressions, 
and  at  the  close  of  life,  when  little  time  remains  for  affection^ 
the  feelings  of  nature  return  ;  year  after  year  has  passed  away 
in  silent  gloom,  and  indignation ;  every  emotion  of  affection 
stifled;  every  office  of  kindness  lost ;  all  the  sweet  consolations 
of  existence  lavished  away  ;  and  then,  when  the  grave  ad- 
monishes enemies  to  forgive,  they  mourn  over  the  kindness 
they  have  lost,  to  renew  it  for  a  moment,  and  lose  it  again 
for  ever.  Therefore,  as  the  apostle  says,  repent,  for  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  at  hand;  we  may  say  forgive,  for  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  at  hand.  Forgive  while  forgiveness  is 
worth  having;  forgive,  while  there  remains  enough  of  life  for 
the  renewal  of  kindness  ;  forgive  while  you  have  something 
else  to  bestow  on  repentance  than  lingering  looks  and  falter- 
ing words. 

And  what  does  this  solemn  Christian  injunction  of  forgiv- 
ing do,  but  eradicate  from  the  mind  the  most  painful  and 
most  unquiet  of  all  passions  ?  What  wretchedness  to  cla- 
mour out  for  ever,  "  I  will  pursue,  I  will  overtake  ;  my  right 
hand  shall  dash  in  pieces  mine  enemy;"  to  sacrifice  all  the 
quiet  happiness  of  life,  to  sicken  on  the  bosom  of  joy  ;  still 
after  the  lapse  of  years  to  feel,  to  see,  and  to  suffer  with  the 
freshness  of  yesterday  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  blessings  to  ex- 
claim, all  this  availeth  me  nothing,  while  Mordecai,  the  Jew, 
sitteth  at  the  king's  gate. 

Are  we  sure,  too,  that  the  cause  of  our  resentment  is  just  ? 
have  we  collected  the  most  ample  evidence  ?  have  we  ex- 
amined it  with  the  closest  attention  ?  have  we  subjected  it  to 
impartial  revision  ?  have  we  suspected  our  passions  ?  have 
we  questioned  our  self-love  ?  When  we  make  such  terrible 
resolutions  of  eternal  hatred  ;  when  we  disobey  the  great  rule 
of  the  Gospel ;  when  we  proclaim  ourselves  as  punishers  and 
avengers  ;  it  at  least  behoves  us  to  know,  that  we  have  seen 
facts  as  they  really  are,  and  reasoned  rightly  upon  them. 
But  the  truth  is,  no  man  ought  to  be  bold  enough  to  expose 
his  eternal  salvation  to  such  peril ;  no  man  ought  to  say  I  am 
so  sure  of  my  own  passions,  that  I  will  risk  my  peace  upon 
them  in  this  world,  and  my  safety  in  the  next  ;  I  see  every 


ON  REVENGE.  239 

day,  that  the  hatred  of  others  is  unjust ;  I  am  sure  mine  is 
just ;  I  am  surrounded  by  pride,  by  error,  and  by  infirmity; 
I  only  am  candid,  temperate  and  good.  What,  if  the  revolu- 
tions of  time,  mellowing  and  changing  the  passions  of  man, 
as  it  changes  the  outward  face  of  nature,  convince  us,  that 
our  hatred  and  persecution  have  been  unjust  ?  the  years  of 
our  delusion  have  past  quickly  on ;  death  has  snatched  from 
us  the  object  of  our  hatred,  and  all  the  reparation  is  impossi- 
ble ;  God  says,  pardon  real  injuries,  forgive  true  sufferings ; 
what  mercy  then  will  he  have  for  the  anger  which  oppresses 
innocence,  or  can  we  believe  that  he  will  pardon  our  tres- 
passes, if  we  are  implacable  even  against  them  who  have  not 
trespassed  against  us  ?  for  it  is  worthy  of  observation,  that 
while  other  duties  are  only  made  the  object  of  precepts,  this 
duty  of  forgiveness  of  injuries,  is  the  very  condition  upon 
which  we  are  permitted  to  prefer  any  petition  to  the  throne 
of  mercy ;  it  is  not  said  simply  thou  shalt  forgive  him  that 
trespasseth  against  thee ;  but  we  are  made  to  say,  forgive  us 
our  trespasses,  as  we  forgive  them  that  trespass  against  us  ;  a 
form  of  words  which  cuts  off  the  resentful  man  from  the  most 
distant  hope  of  divine  favour  ;  and,  in  truth,  it  is  monstrous 
to  die  with  a  load  of  passion,  folly  and  vice,  without  an  atom 
of  mercy  for  the  passions,  the  follies,  and  the  vices  of  others  ; 
to  implore,  and^  to  threaten  in  one  breath  ;  to  place  the  Re- 
deemer Jesus  between  you  and  Omnipotence,  you  who  have 
never  forgiven,  or  redeemed,  or  saved,  or  wept,  or  hstened,  or 
lifted  up  the  bruised  contrite  spirit ;  you  shall  ask  in  vain  on 
that  day,  when  vengeance  is  near  at  hand ;  when  every  rock 
and  hill  are  molten  with  heat ;  when  the  bow  of  God  is  bent; 
when  the  thunder  and  all  the  war  of  heaven  are  rolHng  above 
your  head. 

Men  are  so  far,  generally,  from  being  ashamed  of  not  for- 
giving injuries,  that  they  often  glory  in  revenge  ;  they  believe 
it  to  be  united  with  courage,  and  with  watchful  dignified 
pride ;  the  attribute  of  a  nature  not  to  be  approached  without 
difficulty,  much  less  to  be  insulted  with  impunity,  boundless 
in  gratitude  and  resentment,  full  of  every  wild  untaught 
virtue,  and  every  magnanimous,  popular  vice,  a  nature  firm 
above  others  in  what  it  purposes,  and  vivid  above  others  in 
what  it  feels.  Yet,  after  all,  what  talents,  or  what  virtue, 
can  an  unforgiving  disposition  possibly  imply  ?  Who  is 
most  likely  longest  to  retain  the  sense  of  injured  dignity  ? 
He  who  has  given  no  pledge  to  his  fellow-creatures  that  he 


240  ON  REVENGE. 

is  good  and  amiable  ?  who  does  not  feel  that  he  is  invul- 
nerable ?  who  is  least  fortified  by  a  long  tenour  of  just  inten- 
tions, and  wise  actions  ?  What  man,  who  had  ever  trodden 
one  step  in  the  paths  of  rehgion,  would  vex  the  sunshine  of 
his  existence  with  all  the  inquietudes  of  resentment  ?  would 
ingraft  upon  his  life  the  labour  of  hating,  and  hover,  year 
after  year,  over  expiring  injuries  ?  Who  is  there,  that  bears 
about  him  an  heart  of  flesh,  that  would  put  away  a  brother, 
or  a  friend  who  knelt  to  him  for  mercy  ?  If  there  be  virtue 
and  merit  in  such  feelings  as  these,  let  us,  at  least,  draw  our 
virtues  from  a  source  where  the  worst  and  vilest  of  mankind 
cannot  dip  with  us  ;  if  such  be  the  creed  of  the  world,  this  is 
the  creed  of  the  Gospel.  "  If  there  be  any  who  have' taken 
my I'ox,  or  my  ass,  and  I  have  not  forgiven  him  ;  if  the  shadow 
be  long,  and  the  sun  be  going  down,  and  I  am  stirred  up 
against  any  one  of  my  brethren  ;  if  there  be  any  man  in  the 
whole  earth,  the  latchet  of  whose  shoe,  the  hair  of  whose 
head  I  would  injure  ;  if  that  man  come  to  me,  and  hold  out 
his  hand,  and  say,  it  repenteth  me  sore,  that  I  have  sinned 
against  thee ;  if  I  turn  that  man  away  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
heart,  if  I  run  not  forward  to  meet  him,  may  God  turn  away 
from  me  in  the  bitterness  of  my  heart,  and  while  mine  enemy 
rests  in  the  bosom  of  Abraham,  may  there  be  no  drop  of  water 
for  my  thirst." 

Other  men  who  have  no  desire  to  be  thought  magnanimous 
because  they  revenge,  are  still  apprehensive  of  being  consi- 
dered as  timid  if  they  forgive  and  resent,  to  maintain  a  cha- 
racter for  spirit ;  but  it  is  certainly  extremely  possible  to 
combine  temperate  resistance  to  present  injustice,  with  a 
tendency  to  forgive  what  is  past ;  to  be  firm  in  the  maintain- 
ance  of  just  rights,  while  we  abstain  from  any  greater  injury 
to  our  enemies  than  is  necessary  to  maintain  them,  and  hold 
ourselves  ready  for  forgiveness,  when  they  are  maintained. 
If,  indeed,  power  and  esteem  are  the  principal  objects  of 
human  attention,  the  highest  power  over  the  minds  of  men, 
and  their  most  perfect  esteem,  are  oftentimes  obtained  by  a 
forgiving,  rather  than  a  resenting  disposition;  an  enemy,  won 
over  by  kindness,  is  always  the  most  durable  friend  ;  there  is 
nothing  excites  greater  gratitude  than  forbearance,  where 
resentment  would  have  been  justifiable;  nothing  which  secures 
so  forcibly  our  admiration,  as  to  perceive  that  any  man  is  so 
much  the  master  of  his  own  nature  ;  like  the  apostles  in  the 
ship,  when  we  see  him  rising  up,  and  rebuking  the  winds, 


ON  REVENGE.  241 

and  waves  of  the  mind,  we  are  beyond  measure  amazed,  and 
ask  what  manner  of  man  may  this  be  who  can  command  his 
own  soul,  and  whom  the  passions  and  angers  obey.  We  must, 
therefore,  distinctly  remember,  that  it  is  very  frequently  pos- 
sible to  effect  by  forgiveness  every  object  which  we  propose 
to  effect  by  resentment ;  it  is  possible,  by  forgiving,  to  open  the 
mind  of  an  enemy  to  a  sense  of  his  injustice,  to  excite  his 
admiration,  to  concihate  his  affection,  and  to  turn  his  heart ; 
it  is  possible  to  do  everything  with  forgiveness,  that  can  be 
done  with  resentment,  except  to  give  pain, — there  is,  indeed, 
even  a  pain  to  be  inflicted  by  forgiveness,  but  a  pain  which 
is  at  once  the  symptom  and  the  guardian  of  Christian  virtue; 
compunction  for  having  offended  against  a  generous  and 
forgiving  man.  This  pain  you  may  inflict  if  you  will ;  he  who- 
inflicts  it  must  be  the  disciple  of  Christ,  and  he  who  feels  it 
is  not  far  from  being  so. 

I  have  a  great  deal  more  to  say  upon  this  subject,  more 
than  it  will  be  possible  to  say  in  my  present  discourse,  and 
it  will  be  necessary  to  resume  it  on  some  future  occasion ;  to 
say  too  much  upon  it,  will  not  be  easy  for  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel.  In  every  occasion  of  his  hfe,  our  blessed  Saviour 
preached  forgiveness ;  to  Sadducee,  and  to  Pharisee ;  to  Gen- 
tile, and  to  Jew ;  to  poor  and  to  rich ;  mercy  to  others,  if  you 
wish  for  mercy,  was  his  doctrine  ;  God  forgiveth  the  forgiver; 
he  that  smiteth,  shall  be  smitten ;  so  Jesus  taught,  and  dying, 
as  he  lived,  prayed  for  his  murderers,  looking  up  to  heaven 
and  saying,  God  forgive  them,  they  know  not  what  they  do. 


21 


:;c^^i^^:4<^  X 


SERMON   XXXV. 

ON  THE  TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS 


Masters,  give  unto  your  servants  that  which  is  just,  and  equal,  knowing 
that  ye  also  have  a  Master  in  Heaven. — Colossians  iv.  verse  1. 

Upon  first  turning  our  mind  to  consider  those  causes  which 
preserve  any  society  in  a  state  of  order  and  regularity,  we 
are  apt  to  attribute  this  effect  to  the  laws  alone,  and  to  believe 
that  it  is  principally  the  fear  of  punishment,  which  inculcates 
one  line  of  conduct,  and  discourages  another ;  whereas  the 
fact  is,  if  the  welfare  of  mankind  depended  alone  upon  the 
struggle  of  two  hostile  principles,  the  passion  which  urged 
to  the  commission  of  the  crime  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  law 
that  prohibited  it  on  the  other,  there  had  been  an  end  long 
since  of  human  association  and  refinement ;  and  man,  after 
such  a  vain  experiment  to  better  his  condition  and  improve 
his  nature,  had  returned  to  his  ancient  woods,  with  a  fierce- 
ness confirmed  by  experiment,  and  a  barbarity  resumed  upon 
system. 

If  the  law  has  not  powerful  assistance  and  co-operation,  it 
can  never  cope  with  human  depravity.  Accordingly,  besides 
the  great  and  cardinal  support  of  religion,  we  see  education 
and  opinion  disciplining  the  mind  of  man  to  a  state  of  whole- 
some obedience,  and  preparing  him  for  those  wise  restraints 
upon  which  the  very  existence  of  society  depends.  To  these 
auxiliaries  of  the  law  may  be  added  another  very  important 
one  ;  I  mean  family  government,  the  most  simple,  the  most 
natural,  and  the  most  ancient  of  all  governments.  How  very 
much  virtue  and  religion  must  be  promoted  by  the  due  exer- 
cise of  this  authority  in  all  its  branches,  is  too  plain  to  be 
proved ;  the  best  administered  governments  must  mistake 
much  and  overlook  much ;  it  is  of  course  impossible  that  theyi 


OK  THE  TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS.  243' 

can  descend  to  inspect  the  lives  and  conducts  of  individuals, 
and  to  regulate,  with  minute  and  laborious  justice,  the  propor- 
tion of  merit  and  reward.  Now,  the  chiefs  of  a  family  have 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  every  individual  in  it,  a  lively  inte- 
rest in  their  rectitude  of  conduct,  and  an  influence  over  them 
to  which  nobody  else  can  pretend. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  treat  of  every  branch  of  family 
government,  but  simply  of  that  to  which  my  text  relates,  the 
connection  between  master  and  servant.  The  subject  is  an 
humble  one,  and  little  susceptible  of  ornament :  but  it  is  of 
daily  occurrence ;  and,  as  a  considerable  share  of  our  comfort 
depends  upon  it,  it  certainly  makes  up  in  utihty  what  it  loses 
in  dignity.  It  is  a  very  easy  thing  to  say  of  a  rehgion,  that 
it  has  a  tendency  to  assuage  human  passions,  and  soften  hu- 
man manners ;  we  must  justify  our  praise  by  exemplifying 
it,  and,  coming  home  to  the  business  of  men,  show  in  moral 
detail  what  Christianity  exacts  from  the  husband,  the  father, 
the  master,  and  the  son ;  and  thus  make  eulogium  rational 
by  giving  a  clear  view  of  the  specific  excellencies  on  which 
it  is  founded. 

To  a  Christian,  besides,  the  duties  he  owes  to  any  class  of 
his  fellow-creatures,  however  Ioav  they  may  be  placed  beneath 
him  in  wealth  and  rank,  can  never  be  but  a  serious  and 
solemn  concern;  for  he  bears  within  him  a  levehng  faith 
which  beats  down  the  pride  of  man  to  the  dust,  which  tells 
him  that  the  poorest  creature  in  his  own  shape  has  a  soul 
which  came  from  God  and  before  God  will  stand  in  judgment 
at  that  day  when  the  first  shall  be  last,  and  the  last  be  first, 
and  all  flesh  be  changed. 

It  may  be  necessary  to  observe,  that  I  mean  simply  to  con- 
sider the  connection  between  master  and  servant,  on  one  side 
only ;  not  the  duty  which  a  servant  owes  to  his  master,  but 
that  which  a  master  owes  to  his  servant ;  considering  this  as 
the  only  part  of  the  subject  which  can  be  particularly  apph- 
cable  and  interesting  to  my  present  congregation  ;  nor  shall 
I  go  on  touching  methodically  upon  every  common  duty,  but 
shall  content  myself  with  mentioning  only  the  most  common 
faults  which  we  are  apt  to  commit  in  fulfilling  this  relation  of 
life.  I  hope  you  will  not  think  the  subject  I  have  chosen 
too  low  or  too  particular  for  discussion  in  this  place ;  let  us 
never  forget  that  the  real  test  of  Christian  merit  is  action, 
and  that  if  we  are  not  Christians  in  the  daily  and  common 
transactions  of  our  life,  the  ardour  of  devotion,  and  sincerity 


244  ON  THE  TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS. 

of  our  belief  by  evincing  that  we  know  the  rule  which  we 
neglect,  and  the  lawgiver  whom  we  disobey,  are  proofs  of 
our  guilt  and  not  of  our  virtue.  I  the  more  insist  on  this, 
because  it  is  the  easiest  and  most  common  of  all  things  to 
deceive  ourselves,  and  to  substitute,  instead  of  the  toil  of 
moral  emendation,  an  overheated  fancy,  and  an  undoubting 
faith,  and  then  to  believe  that  we  are  doing  our  duty  to  God 
and  man. 

I  may  very  fairly  begin  with  laying  it  down  as  a  rule  that 
we  owe  to  those  placed  under  us,  gentle  language,  and  a  kind, 
and  benevolent  deportment.  We  are  all  of  us  enough  dis- 
posed to  allow,  and  to  make  eulogiums  upon  Christianity,  as 
a  beneficent  system  of  morals.  In  this  commendation,  the 
skeptic  has  shown  an  equal  alacrity  with  the  Christian ;  but 
do  we  imagine  that  our  Saviour,  in  the  zeal  with  which  he 
everywhere  promotes  the  happiness  of  mankind,  while  he 
endeavours  to  throw  open  every  compassionate  heart  as  an 
asylum  for  the  afflicted,  and  to  make  the  good  an  altar  for 
the  miserable ;  do  we  imagine  that  while  he  remembers  the 
bodily  wants,  he  forgets  the  moral  feehngs  of  man  ?  that  he 
has  not  restrained  the  sallies  of  passion,  as  much  as  he  has 
quickened  the  emotions  of  pity  ?  The  same  merciful  Christ, 
who  says,  give  of  your  abundance  to  those  who  have  little, 
who  bids  you  comfort  the  man  who  is  unhappy,  forbids  you 
to  add  woe  to  woe,  to  build  sorrow  upon  servitude,  and  to 
break  down  the  heart  of  your  bondsman,  who  has  no  help  but 
from  you,  with  scornful  looks  and  galling  words. 

Man  seizes  greedily  upon  every  little  source  of  distinction, 
which  falls  within  his  reach  ;  his  perpetual  effort  is,  to  scrape 
together  every  consideration  which  can  exalt  him  in  his  own 
mind  above  his  fellow-creatures ;  and  the  unwatched  tendency 
of  all  his  thoughts  is  constantly  to  exaggerate  the  importance 
of  his  own  claims  and  pretensions,  and  to  diminish  those  of 
others.  We  are  compelled  to  respect,  in  a  considerable  degree, 
the  rights  of  our  equals  ;  but  those  of  our  inferiors,  in  this 
instance  of  language  and  manner,  we  sometimes  cruelly 
neglect ;  and  the  man  Avho  is  trembhngly  ahve  to  the  preser- 
vation of  his  most  minute  privileges,  who  is  ready  in  con- 
formity with  the  notions  of  the  times,  to  expose  his  life  upon 
the  least  affront,  or  the  least  shadow  of  an  affront,  will  tram- 
ple without  a  moment  of  human  reflection,  upon  the  honest 
feehngs  of  a  fellow-creature  who,  though  he  never  enjoyed 
the  goods  of  fortune,  partakes  of  the  common  sentiments  of 


,0N  THE  TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS.  245 

our  nature,  and,  in  proportion  as  his  lot  of  life  is  less  envia- 
ble, merits  from  every  good  man  a  treatment  more  kind. 

Do  not  let  us  fall  into  the  hard-hearted  mistake,  that  be- 
cause men  are  born  in  a  low  station  of  life,  and  humbly  edu- 
cated, they  have  not  a  considerable  and  a  powerful  share 
of  feelings.  We  think  that  humble  men  are  to  be  moved 
only  by  a  sense  of  gain,  and  that  all  usage  is  nearly  indifferent 
to  them,  if  their  meat  and  drink,  and  clothing  be  the  same  ; 
but  there  are  many  of  them  who  would  go  from  good  fare  to 
kind  words,  who  would  be  content  with  a  less  pittance  from 
the  hand  of  a  gentle  and  just  man,  and  think  with  the  pro- 
verb that  it  were  better  to  dine  off  herbs,  where  love  was, 
than  to  have  a  stalled  ox,  and  hatred  therewith.  And  have 
we  never  heard  of  servants,  whom  no  reverse  of  their  master's 
fortune  had  ever  tempted  to  desert  him?  who  have  sacrificed 
the  long-cherished  hope  of  liberty,  and  competency  in  their 
old  age,  to  follow  a  disgraced,  an  exiled,  a  needy  man  in  all 
his  miseries  ?  who  have  given  their  body  for  his  shield,  and 
their  hands  for  his  support  ?  and  all  this  without  the  most  dis- 
tant hope  of  reward  ?  And  why  ? — not  because  he  has  fed 
and  clothed  them,  (for  the  labourer  is  worthy  of  his  hire,  and 
recompense  is  rather  justice  than  benevolence,)  but  because 
they  have  never  been  debased  in  their  own  eyes  by  scornful 
language  ;  have  never  been  goaded  by  unworthy  treatment ; 
because  they  have  met  with  men  who  have  not  thought  the 
feelings  of  their  poor  dependents  too  insignificant  a  subject 
for  consideration  and  self-restraint ;  because  they  have  been 
thought  of,  esteemed,  and  valued.'  *  These  are  the  most  ac- 
ceptable gifts  which  one  human  being  can  bestow  upon  ano- 
ther, and  when  they  come  from  him  whom  fortune  and  con- 
dition surround  with  dignity,  to  him  who  has  nothing  to  com- 
mand the  respect  of  the  world,  from  the  master  to  the  servant, 
they  win  the  human  heart,  and  form  an  attachment  as  indis- 
soluble, perhaps,  as  subsists  in  the  world. 

Distinction  of  ranks  there  must  be  in  every  society,  and  it 
is  most  devoutly  to  be  wished,  that  the  good  sense  and  firm- 
ness of  this  country  may  ever  preserve  them  ;  but  it  is  the 
peculiar  province  of  religious  instruction,  to  teach  that  consi- 
derate mildness  which  softens  down  the  line  of  demarkation 
between  the  orders  of  mankind,  which  allays  the  natupal  dis- 
content of  inferiority  by  amiable  concession,  and  renders  the 
obedience  of  the  lower  classes  certain  and  solid,  by  rendering: 

•IT  ^  ^ 

It  wilung. 

21* 


346  ON  THE  TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS. 

There  is  one  very  striking  advantage  in  this  amiable  be- 
haviour to  our  domestics  for  those  who  are  engaged  in  the 
truly  noble  occupation  of  gradually  correcting  and  improving 
their  characters ;  it  affords  a  constant  exercise  for  the  virtues 
of  justice  and  moderation,  and  it  is  in  the  bosom  of  their 
famihes,  and  in  the  midst  of  those  who  are  the  daily  witnesses 
of  their  actions,  that  men  ought  to  render  virtue  habitual  to 
themselves  ;  but  instead  of  rendering  their  home  a  school  of 
probation  and  exercise,  they  too  often  look  upon  it  £is  a  place 
of  rest  from  every  noble  effort,  as  a  retreat,  where  they  are 
-exempted  from  the  painful  restraints  of  moderation,  justice, 
and  complacency.  Hence  it  is  that  in  these  little  subdivisions 
of  society,  in  families,  where  the  world  is  fenced  off,  where 
one  roof  shelters  those  whom  nature  intended  to  be  so  dear  to 
each  other,  the  nearest  kindred  are  so  often  the  constant  source 
of  each  other's  misery  and  inquietude ;  and  hence  it  is  that 
when  we  meet  together  in  the  world,  we  do  not  bring  into 
each  other's  society  virtues,  but  the  symbols  of  virtues ;  we  are 
not  moderate,  or  just,  or  benevolent,  but  we  counterfeit  these 
virtues  for  the  time  being;  and  the  actions  of  men  are  not 
here  any  proofs  of  amiable  quahties,  but  of  adroit  and  syste- 
matic imposture. 

This  unchristianlike  conduct  to  servants  does  not  always 
proceed  from  a  bad  heart ;  many  are  guilty  of  it  who  have 
much  of  compassion  and  goodness  in  their  nature ;  but  it 
seems  to  proceed  from  a  notion  early  imbibed,  never  effectu- 
ally checked,  and  aided  by  our  natural  indolence  and  pride, 
that  a  sense  of  those  injuries  which  are  conveyed  by  manner 
and  expression,  is  almost  exclusively  confined  to  those  whose 
minds  are  refined  by  education,  or  whose  condition  is  enno- 
bled by  birth  ;  but  in  spite  of  all  the  ills  which  poverty  can 
inflict,  no  human  being  is  base  or  abject  in  his  own  eyes. 
Without  wealth,  or  beauty,  or  learning,  or  fame,  nay,  without 
one  soul  in  all  the  earth  that  harbours  a  thought  of  him,  with- 
out a  place  where  to  lay  his  head,  loathsome  from  disease, 
and  shunned  by  men,  the  poorest  outcast  has  still  something  for 
which  he  cherishes  and  fosters  himself;  he  has  still  some  one 
pride  in  reserve,  and  you  may  still  make  his  tears  more  bitter, 
and  his  heart  more  heavy ;  do  not  then  take  away  from  men 
who  ^ve  you  their  labour  for  their  bread,  those  feelings  of 
self-cohiplacency  which  are  dear  to  all  conditions,  but  doubly 
dear  to  this;  do  not  take  away  that  from  thy  poor  brother, 
which  cheers  him  in  his  toil,  which  gives  him  a  light  heart, 


ON  THE  TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS.  ^S^ 

and  wipes  the  sweat  from  his  brow ;  and  be  thou  good  and 
kind  to  him,  and  speak  gentle  words  to  him,  for  the  strength 
of  his  youth  is  thine,  and  remember  there  is  above  a  God, 
whom  thou  canst  not  ask  to  pardon  thy  folHes,  and  thy  crimes, 
if  thou  forgivest  not  also  the  trespasses  which  are  done  against 
thee. 

There  is.  another  point  in  which  the  masters  of  famihes  do 
not  fulfil  this  relation  in  a  very  exemplary  manner,  and  that 
is,  in  attention  to  the  moral  discipline  of  their  servants.  The 
truth  is,  that  if  masters  are  well  served,  they  busy  themselves 
very  little  farther  with  anything  else,  and  suffer  many  faults 
to  pass  unnoticed,  which  do  not  interfere  with  their  own  in- 
dividual comfort;  but  is  this  the  duty  of  a  good  member  of 
the  community,  or  of  a  good  Christian  ?  The  master  of  a 
family  has  an  opportunity  of  informing  himself  of  the  charac- 
ter of  every  individual  in  it  more  minutely  than  any  other 
person  can  do ;  he  derives  a  most  important  weight  from  his 
situation,  and  a  little  temperate,  judicious  and  dignified  advice 
from  him,  will  reclaim  many  a  thoughtless  young  person  from 
destruction,  much  more  effectually  than  any  public  and 
general  instruction  can  be  supposed  to  do.  It  is  not  easy  to 
conceive  anything  more  respectable,  more  useful,  and  more 
rehgious,  than  the  conduct  of  a  master  of  a  family,  who  would 
condescend  in  this  manner,  to  take  into  his  hands  the  moral 
guidance  of  his  servants,  and  to  use  his  influence  over  them, 
and  to  make  them  wiser  and  better  men.  That  these  exer- 
i  tions  would  afford  to  anybody  a  most  ample  and  abundant 
i  return,  there  can  be  little  reason  to  doubt.  Such  a  man  would 
feel,  in  the  first  place,  that  most  pure  and  perfect  of  all  plea- 
sures, the  pleasure  of  doing  good  ;  he  would  be  conscious  that 
he  had  laid  up  against  the  hour  of  death  and  the  day  of  afflic- 
tion a  store  of  complacent  reflection,  and  many  remembrances 
of  a  well-spent  life  ;  his  too  would  be  the  singular  fortune  of 
uniting  his  duty  with  his  immediate  interest ;  for  will  any 
human  being  be  long  faithful  to  his  worldly  master,  who  has 
few  and  imperfect  notions  of  any  other?  or  can  there  be  a 
greater  security  for  faithful  and  ready  obedience,  than  a  mind 
solemnly  impressed  with  notions  of  wrong  and  right,  and 
roused  to  a  love  of  virtue  and  a  dread  of  vice  ? 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  a  more  pleasant  spectacle  than  a  well- 
ordered  family,  where  the  good  sense  and  benevolence  of 
the  superiors  diffuse  comfort  and  content  to  the  meanest  in- 
dividual of  which  it  is  composed ;  where  the  kindness  of  the 


348  ON  THE  TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS. 

master  is  reflected  back  in  the  alacrity  of  the  servant ;  where 
command  is  dictated  by  reason,  and  obedience  comes  from  the 
heart.  There  is  here  no  contest  whether  one  shall  evade  or 
the  other  exact  the  most ;  but  generosity  on  the  one  side  has 
begotten  fidelity  on  the  other,  and  two  diflferent  orders  of  men 
are  bound  together  in  the  common  bonds  of  interest  and  af- 
fection. This  house  is  the  tabernacle  of  peace  ;  here  it  is  that 
virtue  and  religion  love  to  dwell;  and  if  the  great  God  ever 
give  us  in  this  melancholy  vale  to  taste  one  drop  of  heavenly 
comfort,  in  such  a  calm,  wise  and  religious  state  that  blessing 
is  surely  conferred  ;  good,  and  surrounded  by  the  good, 
making  use  of  the  superior  situation  to  which  fortune  has 
exalted  you,  to  influence  your  inferiors  in  the  cause  of  virtue, 
suffering  no  bad,  no  indifferent  character  near  you,  but  by  the 
incessant  efforts  of  benevolence  and  example,  transmuting  and 
subliming  every  heart  into  moral  and  Christian  excellence ; 
this  it  is  to  imitate  our  great  Creator,  who  for  ages  has  seen 
the  nations  of  the  earth  gliding  away  under  his  throne,  and 
the  people  mad  with  folly  and  crime;  yet  he  has  looked  on, 
and  spared  us  ;  we  are  not  swallowed  up  ;  he  is  a  merciful,  and 
a  good  God,  and  he  still  shows  us  the  light  of  his  counte- 
nance, and  he  opens  his  hand,  and  fills  all  things  living  Avith 
plenteousness.  Do  thou,  therefore,  unto  thy  servants  that 
which  is  just  and  equal,  knowing  that  thou  hast  such  a 
master  in  heaven. 


-^Wr; 


SERMON    XXXVI. 

ON    MEN    OF    THE    WORLD, 

Be  not  conformed  to  this  world. — Romams  Xii.  verse  2. 

I  SHALL  dedicate  niy  sermon  of  this  day  to  the  examination  of 
a  very  common  and  a  very  complex  character  in  society;  that 
1  mean  of  men  of  the  world :  a  description  of  persons  so  far 
from  having  obeyed  the  injunction  of  the  apostle,  that  they 
have  received  an  appellation  directly  significant  of  their  dis- 
obedience to  it. 

When  vice  stands  by  itself,  we  descry  an  enemy,  and  pre- 
pare for  attack  or  defence ;  but  vice,  in  union  with  agreeable 
qualities  and  accomplishments,  presents  an  insidious  combina- 
tion, which  requires  the  close  attention  of  the  religious  in- 
structor, because  it  veils  the  danger  which  it  augments. 

Strange  havoc  is  made  in  our  opinions  by  words;  appella- 
tions frequently  convey  censure,  or  praise,  which  the  ideas 
they  signify  certainly  would  not  do;  and  definition  seems  as 
necessary  in  morals,  as  it  is  for  any  object  of  science.  It  is 
enough  for  the  purposes  of  shame  or  honour,  to  get  hold  of 
certain  phrases  or  terms ;  what  is  the  real  import  of  these 
words,  and  what  good  and  evil  they  really  convey,  few  people 
give  themselves  the  trouble  to  consider ;  hence,  if  a  loose  ex- 
pression be  set  up,  significant  of  some  popular  qualities,  the 
adjacent  vices  will  soon  connect  [themselves  with  these  wel- 
come guests,  and  bidding,  under  cover  of  their  name,  defiance 
to  the  indolent  search  made  for  them,  they  will  share  in 
common  the  indulgence  and  approbation  of  the  world. 

The  appellation  of  a  man  of  the  world,  can  in  strictness 
mean  nothing  more  than  a  person  who,  by  long  mingling  with 
his  fellow-creatures,  has  acquired  a  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  together  with  those  habits  and  manners  which  pre- 


250  ON  MEN  OF  THE  WORLD. 

vail  in  that  cast  of  society  which  gives  the  law  to  the  rest.^ 
Good  manners  and  skill  in  character  contribute  so  much  to  the 
general  happiness,  that  this  appellation  of  man  of  the  world, 
would  very  justly  confer  popularity,  if  it  were  found  to  mean 
nothing  more.  It  is  not  a  knowledge  of  the  world,  properly 
so  called,  that  can  ever  be  the  subject  of  condemnation  in  this 
place ;  to  be  ignorant  of  men  can  never  be  the  way  to  live 
well  amongst  them  ;  but  those  vices  which  have  been  fraudu- 
lently interwoven  with  this  pleasant  and  important  knowledge, 
should  be  torn  off';  we  should  toss  out  the  asp  which  hes  hid- 
den in  the  fruit ;  death  is  a  hard  price  for  dehght. 

In  the  first  place,  the  appellation  of  a  man  of  the  world, 
has  become  a  protection  for  irreligion. 

When  I  proceed  to  estimate  the  religion  of  a  man  of  the 
world,  no  one  will  imagine  me  about  to  draw  a  very  savage 
picture  of  severity  and  gloom;  some  httle  relaxation  of  self-denial 
will  be  anticipated,  and  some  little  deviation  from  unerring  recti- 
tude. It  will  be  no  story  of  the  cowl,  and  the  cloister,  of  the 
burning  lamp,  and  the  midnight  prayer,  of  the  altar  ever 
charged  with  oblation,  and  the  hymn  ever  sounding  with 
praise :  I  do  not  mean  to  be  unjust  in  the  delineation  of  cha- 
racter ;  injustice  of  this  kind  is  impolitic  and  immoral ;  but  I 
am  not  afraid  of  being  severe,  while  I  confine  myself  to  truth; 
we  are  placed  here  to  remind,  to  warn,  to  detect,  to  caution, 
to  entreat,  to  blame,  and  to  praise ;  and  that  man  is  a  traitor 
to  the  most  sacred  trust,  who  thunders  grief  and  terror  against 
awkward  vice,  and  holds  parley  with  pleasing  error  and  popu- 
lar sin. 

A  man  of  the  world  is  rarely  or  ever  seen  in  any  place  of 
public  worship ;  a  spirited  and  witty  contempt  for  religion  is 
the  most  gaudy,  indispensable  feather  in  his  whole  plume.  If 
he  happen  not  yet  to  have  shaken  off  his  rehgion  internally, 
which  in  the  beginning  of  his  career  may  perhaps  be  the 
case,  he  must  indulge  only  in  furtive  supplication,  and  retire 
to  his  own  chamber,  not  to  avoid  the  ostentation,  but  the  im- 
putation of  piety.  As  a  man  of  the  world  becomes  older  and 
more  a  man  of  the  world,  he  may  perhaps  become  a  confor- 
mist, and  comply  with  the  outward  ceremonies  of  religion, 
still  taking  care  it  is  privately  understood  he  is  there  to  humour 
the  world ;  that  his  contempt  for  these  things  is  in  no  ways 
diminished ;  that  he  still  thinks  rehgion  the  business  of  wo- 
men, children,  and  priests.  His  object  is  to  impress  man- 
kind with  a  notion  of  his  versatihty ;  he  insinuates  that  he 


ON  MEN  OF  THE  WORLD.  251 

v'would  fall  in  with  the  reigning  worship  wherever  he  might 
V*be  placed,  and  change  his  adoration  with  his  climate ;  and 
'-'you  cannot  more  effectually  pique  or  punish  his  vanity,  than 
by  mistaking  him  for  a  devout  man  seriously  impressed  with 
the  truths  of  rehgion.  This  singular  and  impious  affectation 
proceeds  from  a^  desire  of  appearing  to  have  escaped  from 
those  unsocial  and  unpleasant  quaHties  with  which  rehgion 
is  in  our  imagination  so  fatally  connected ;  an  association 
strengthened  by  that  period  of  our  history  when  irreligion 
was  unfortunately  the  only  test  of  genuine  loyalty  and  elegant 
extraction.  But  this  union  between  disaffection  and  devotion 
is  now  not  only  dissolved,  but  reversed,  and  religion  is  clearly 
no  longer  the  parent  of  barbarous  and  austere  manners.  As 
far  as  it  affects  manners  at  all,  it  teaches  the  reality  of  every 
amiable  quaHty,  of  which  knowledge  of  the  world  teaches  us 
to  counterfeit  the  appearance,  and  changes  a  system  of  con- 
ventional fraud  and  sanctioned  falsehood  into  a  solid  commerce 
of  benevolence  and  mutual  indulgence. 

A  man  of  the  world,  though  he  have  no  learned  disbelief 
of  sacred  things,  but  rather  an  habitual  carelessness  concern- 
ing them,  is  still  the  author  of  much  serious  mischief  to  the 
cause  of  religion ;  he  is  always  hovering  upon  the  borders  of 
consecrated  ground,  and  watching  his  opportunity  to  make 
light  and  successful  incursions  upon  it ;  and  when  the  out- 
works of  religion  are  attacked  by  a  popular  character,  with 
humour  and  pleasantry,  we  are  defrauded  into  a  smile,  or  dare 
not  stop  the  acclamations  of  contagious  mirth  with  the  warn- 
ings of  deliberate  and  principled  austerity ;  in  the  mean  time, 
the  reverential  awe  in  which  education  has  enshrined  every 
holy  thought,  and  every  holy  name,  is  gradually  dissipated ; 
and  the  best  pledge  of  all  that  is  valuable  in  character  or  ad- 
,  mirable  in  action,  trucked  away  with  the  ignorance  of  children 
for  the  graceful  facihties  and  trifles  of  shameless,  senseless, 
silly  men. 
>  The  morality  of  a  man  of  the  world  amounts  to  little  more 
than  prudence,  and  does  not  always  come  up  to  that :  he  is 
V. ''aware  of  the  allowance  that  is  made  for  him,  and  sins  up  to 
-  the  full  extent  of  his  measure  ;  he  must  be  always  ready  to 
sacrifice  his  own  life  or  to  take  that  of  another;  in  gaming, 
he  must  observe  the  strictest  faith,  and,  in  general,  must  ab- 
stain from  all  vices  that  are  neither  elegant  nor  interesting. 
With  these  hmits  he  is  let  loose  upon  pubhc  happiness,  to 
plunder  and  debauch,  without  penalty  or  shame.     Take,  for 


252  ON  MEN  OF  THE  WORLD. 

instance,  the  happiness  of  a  private  family,  as  it  depends  upon 
the  unsullied  dignity  and  spotless  life  of  its  females ;  is  there 
one  of  those  whom  we  call  men  of  the  world,  whom  anything 
but  fear  would  prevent  from  poisoning  the  heart,  and  laying 
waste  the  principles  and  virtues  of  women  ?  Is  there  one 
who  has  rehgious  magnanimity  enough  to  scare  this  hcen- 
tious  cruelty  from  his  soul?  Is  there  one  who  would  not 
blush  to  be  suspected  of  such  a  virtue  ?  And  how  often 
would  the  indulgence  of  the  vice  meet  its  punishment  in  the 
anger  and  the  execrations  of  the  world ! 

But  though  it  be  admitted  that  these,  and  many  other  bad 
vices,  too  often  mark  the  character  of  a  man  of  the  world, 
"  still,"  it  will  be  urged,  "  he  has  his  peculiar  excellencies, 
as  well  as  defects,  and  the  former  of  these  justify,  in  some 
measure,  the  admiration  he  receives,  and  give  such  a  man  a 
title  to  our  love,  if  not  to  our  esteem ;  one  of  these  palliating 
virtues  is  certainly  generosity."  If  a  man  of  the  world  be 
generous,  it  must  at  least  be  allowed  he  is  more  frequently  so 
with  other  people's  property  than  with  his  own.  The  great 
check  upon  generosity,  is  the  necessity  of  employing  wealth 
for  the  ordinary  wants  of  life;  but  he  who  lives  in  the  world 
on  free  quarter,  and  defrauds  a  thousand  honest  men  of  their 
due,  may  toss  away  his  bounty  with  a  profusion,  admirable 
enough  to  the  multitude,  but  which,  in  fact,  is  the  profligacy 
of  a  robber,  not  the  generosity  of  a  magnanimous  man. 

In  all  matters  of  compact  or  agreement,  it  is  the  invariable 
maxim  of  men  of  the  world  to  take  every  advantage,  which 
the  ignorance  of  the  contracting  party,  or  the  ambiguity  of 
law,  will  permit ;  and  this  not  more  from  avarice  than  from 
vanity,  because,  above  all  things,  mankind  must  be  impressed 
with  a  notion  of  this  dexterity;  and  if  he  give  way  to  a  sense 
of  generosity  or  justice,  it  will  be  presumed  he  has  not  seen 
the  advantage  he  has  relinquished. 

Another  source  of  distinction,  to  which  this  class  of  per- 
sons lays  claim,  is,  an  exemption  from  prejudices  ;  a  claim  of 
such  high  importance,  that  I  am  afraid  no  class  of  men,  and 
very  few  individuals  of  any  class,  are  entitled  to  make  it.  A 
long  commerce  with  the  world,  though  it  frequently  extin- 
guishes principle,  seems  only  to  commute  prejudices.  In 
the  world,  the  prop  of  friendship  is  httle  wanted  ;  the  ties  of 
blood  forgotten,  the  ardour  of  youthful  benevolence  blunted ; 
whatever  amuses,  is  virtue  ;  whatever  tires,  vice  ;  a  callous 
contempt  for  mankind  dispensing  with  all  active  benevolence, 


ON  MEN  OF  THE  WORLD.  253 

is  riveted  on  the  mind  for  ever  ;  this  is  frequent  enough  in 
the  world ;  but  for  prejudice,  men  reason  as  badly,  and  retain 
their  opinions  as  obstinately  in  crowds,  as  in  solitude  ;  if  a 
secluded  man  wants  experience  to  correct  his  reflection,  an 
active  man  wants  reflection  to  infer  justly  from  his  experience; 
if  the  one  be  too  little  interested  to  observe  minutely,  the  other 
is  too  much  interested  to  observe  candidly  ;  so  that  there  is 
nothing  in  the  life  of  a  man  of  the  world,  that  should  impart 
to  his  mind  a  greater  degree  of  liberality,  though  his  licen- 
tiousness, and  indifference  to  all  opinion,  may  frequently  lead 
us  to  suppose  so. 

Nothing  excites  the  ridicule  of  a  man  of  the  world  more 
powerfully  than  any  hypothesis  concerning  public  virtue,  or 
supposition  that  the  mass  of  mankind  are  not  a  fair  object  of 
plunder  and  deception  ;  you  can  hardly  present  to  him  a 
better  opportunity  for  sarcasm,  or  a  more  decided  evidence  of 
your  own  pedantry  and  ignorance  of  mankind  ;  to  him,  office 
and  legislation  are  as  much  objects  of  sale,  as  the  drugs  or 
the  spices  of  the  merchant ;  he  is  ever  ready  to  truck  the 
public  happiness  for  what  it  will  fetch  ;  and  when  he  speaks 
of  the  importance  of  his  trust,  you  may  be  sure  he  means  to 
enhance  the  price  of  his  treason.  It  is  vain  to  talk  of  in- 
novations, and  to  call  out  for  a  multiplication  of  checks  in 
government ;  the  root  of  the  evil  is  the  laxity  of  all  public 
principle.  From  this  school  of  the  world,  swarms  of  disciples 
will  ever  be  ready  to  put  to  sale  the  wisest  institutions,  the 
ablest  laws,  and  the  most  sacred  trusts.  Such  are  the  idols 
of  our  admiration !  Such  the  models  to  which  the  eyes  of 
the  young  are  directed,  such  the  men  before  whom  virtue  is 
abashed,  and  wisdom  still ;  who  make  us  all  blush  for  our 
rustic  integrity,  and  plebeian  faith. 

It  commonly  happens,  that  a  man  of  the  world  adds  to  his 
other  bad  qualities,  those  deep-seated  and  fatal  vices  which 
proceed  from  the  love  of  gaming  : — His  taste  for  lawful  and 
simple  pleasure  has  long  since  given  way  to  the  emotions  of 
passion  ;  there  exists  in  him  a  necessity  for  perturbation  ;  he 
must  ever  be  flushed  with  avarice,  shaken  with  rage,  or  racked 
with  despair  ;  he  must  descend,  in  one  short  hour,  from  wealth 
to  poverty,  from  raptures  to  curses ;  any  tempest,  any  storm, 
to  escape  from  the  dull  tranquillity  of  virtue,  and  the  inflexible 
demands  of  duty. 

The  progress  of  opinions  is  curious  and  instructive.  Vir- 
33 


*^'d4  on  men  of  the  world. 

tiie  is  so  delightful,  Avhenever  it  is  perceived,  that  men  have 
found  it  their  interest  to  cultivate  manners,  which  are,  in  fact, 
the  appearances  of  certain  virtues  ;  and  now  we  are  come  to 
Jove  the  sign  better  than  the  thing  signified,  and  indubitably 
to  prefer  (though  we  never  own  it)  manners  without  virtue, 
to  virtue  without  manners. 

Men  who  have  only  this  merit  of  exterior  to  plead,  would 
be  ranked  with  some  greater  regard  to  justice,  if  their  judges 
were  more  governed  by  the  suggestions  of  conscience  and 
reflection,  than  by  the  tyranny  of  fashion.  The  universal 
object  seems  to  be,  not  to  do  w^hat  we  think  right,  but  to  do 
what  is  done,  to  avoid  singularity ;  self-approbation,  the  vice- 
gerent of  God,  and  legitimate  monarch  of  our  actions,  is  de- 
posed. We  voluntarily  submit  to  the  government  of  the 
multitude,  obey  the  mandate  we  disapprove,  and  employ  all 
the  force  of  ridicule  to  make  other  people  as  slavishly  irra- 
tional as  ourselves.  Without  a  certain  disregard  to  the 
opinions  of  the  world,  or  rather  that  mass  of  people  engaged 
in  dissipation,  who  call  themselves  the  world,  there  can  be 
neither  wisdom  of  conduct,  nor  happiness  the  result  of  it. 
Singularity  as  a  motive  to  action,  has  justly  experienced  all 
the  ridicule  it  has  received  ;  singularity,  as  a  necessary  con- 
sequence of  our  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  propriety  and  good 
sense,  it  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  incur,  and  if  he  cannot 
despise  the  ridicule  consequent  upon  it,  at  least  to  bear  it. 
Give  this  self-called  world  its  full  dominion  over  trifles,  up  to 
the  very  confines  of  morality,  and  religion,  but  not  a  step  be- 
yond ;  here  make  your  stand,  or  be  for  ever  lost.  There  is  a 
latent  sense  of  their  own  unworthiness  in  every  multitude,  in 
none  more  than  in  that  called  the  world;  they  are  ever  ready 
to  flee  from  the  erect  aspect  of  wisdom  and  of  courage  ;  they 
will  begin  with  scoffing  at  your  independence,  and  end  Avith 
respecting  it.  Join  with  that  world  in  the  admiration  of 
polish,  refinement  and  urbanity  ;  dehght  in  that  graceful 
mutability  of  soul,  which  takes  its  tone  and  tenour  from  every 
external  object;  in  that  subdued  energy,  which  always  charms, 
and  never  exceeds ;  in  that  learned  exercise  of  talent  which 
gives  pleasure  without  exciting  envy;  in  that  pleasant  despot- 
ism of  courtesy,  which  makes  every  man  a  willing  slave. 
But  let  not  that  sacred  vigilance  slumber,  which  watches  over 
evil  and  good  ;  the  fairest  of  all  things  are  religion,  and  virtue, 
for  the  want  of  which,  all  the  accomphshments  of  the  outward 


ON  MEN  OF  THE  WORLD.  255 

man  are  wretched  atonements ;  nothing  can  compensate  fox 
their  absence  ;  no  price,  however  splendid  and  imposing,  can 
purchase  that,  which  is  above  all  human  value,  calculation 
and  esteem. 

The  conviction  which  these  plain  and  obvious  remarks 
may  carry  with  them,  will  be  eluded  by  that  common  style 
of  reasoning  which  gives  vigour  and  duration  to  every  pos- 
sible fault.  "  A  single  example  can  do  nothing  ;  the  world 
will  still  go  on  as  it  has  always  done  ;  bad  men  will  still  find 
protecting  names,  and  imposing  pretences;  the  individual 
who  withstands  it,  will  become  ridiculous,  the  fault  remain  as 
popular  as  ever."  The  misfortune  is,  that  this  objection  is 
made  with  bad  faith,  and  can  as  well  be  answered  by  those 
who  make,  as  by  those  who  state  it.  No  individual  is  called 
upon  to  bear  the  whole  burthen  of  reform ;  but  the  reform  is 
to  be  effected  by  the  sum  of  individual  exertions ;  of  course, 
morality  must  always  be  stationary  or  retrograde,  if  we  all 
resolve  to  contribute  nothing  towards  the  general  improvement, 
because  none  of  us  can  contribute  much. 

Those  who  have  not  strength  of  character  to  deviate  mate- 
rially from  the  customs  of  the  world,  in  this  patronage  of 
folly  and  estimation  of  vice,  need  not  go  all  lengths  ;  some 
scanty  limits  and  some  feeble  shame  they  may  still  preserve, 
and  watch  over  the  crumbling  barriers  of  virtue,  which  totter 
on  their  base. 

Nobody  of  course  can  mean  to  say,  that  a  fellow-creature 
ought  to  be  the  object  of  aversion,  because  he  has  mingled 
with  great  numbers,  and  great  varieties  of  his  species  ;  a 
thousand  virtues  may  result  from  the  school  of  the  world 
which  a  speculative  life  can  with  difficulty  infuse.  An  hu- 
man being  who  has  ever  cultivated  his  understanding,  and 
preserved  an  unspotted  integrity  amidst  all  the  business  o£ 
life,  exhibits  the  finest  model  of  character  which  this  world 
can  produce ;  short  of  this,  there  are  many  who  have  had 
the  good  sense,  or  the  good  fortune,  to  conduct  themselves 
with  a  decent  propriety,  which,  in  the  spirit  of  Christian 
indulgence,  may  entitle  them  to  the  favour  they  experience ; 
bat  when  the  term  of  a  man  of  the  world  becomes  the 
pass-word  to  all  society ;  when  the  character  is  the  admira- 
tion of  one  sex,  and  the  model  for  imitation  in  the  other ; 
when  irreligious  men,  dishonest  men,  gamesters,  seducers, 
adulterers,  ungrateful  sons,  unjust  husbands,  neglectful  pa- 


356  ON  MEN  ^F  THE  WORLD. 

rents,  shameless,  infamoiis  women  ;  when  every  polished 
assassin,  and  every  accomplished  impostor,  find  shelter  and 
forgiveness  for  their  crimes  in  this  attribute  of  knowledge  of 
the  world,  it  becomes  the  imperious  duty  of  every  reflecting 
man  to  sift  well  this  fatal,  shuffling  world,  to  be  careful,  as  far 
as  his  own  efforts  and  example  extend,  to  make  infamy  and 
Regleet  the  punishment  of  vice,  and  not  to  sanction  with  his 
name  and  society,  an  infamous,  immoral  character,  though 
birth,  wit,  fortune  and  manners»  aU  conspire  to  make  it  the 
idol  of  the  worlds 


SERMON   XXXVII. 

ON  THE  FOLLY  OF  BEING  ASHAMED 
OF  RELIGION. 


Whosoever,  therefore,  shall  confess  me  before  men,  him  will  I  confess 
also  before  my  Father,  which  is  in  Heaven ;  but  whosoever  shall  deny 
me  before  men,  him  will  I  also  deny  before  my  Father,  which  is  in  Hea- 
ven.— Matthew  x.  verse  32,  33. 

There  is  no  word  which  issues  more  frequently  from  the 
mouths  of  those  who  have  no  great  fondness  for  rehgion,  and 
the  rehgious,  than  that  of  hypocrisy ;  indeed,  it  is  with  them 
so  very  common  a  word,  that  it  may  be  questioned,  if  they 
have  any  other  by  which  to  denote  rehgion  itself.  Whoever 
talks  of  religion  is  an  hypocrite ;  whoever  frequents  rehgious 
worship  is  an  hypocrite  ;  whoever  is  alarmed  for,  or  defends 
the  interests  of  religion,  is  an  hypocrite.  Hypocrisy  is  the 
term,. by  which  bad  men  endeavour  to  designate  and  to  dis- 
grace religion. 

However  just  such  imputation  may  have  been  in  ages  past, 
it  is  not  now  worth  while  to  determine  ;  rehgion  might  then 
have  been  held  in  greater  honour  among  men,  than  unfortu- 
nately it  is  at  present ;  and,  as  the  reality  was  more  precious, 
the  counterfeit  might  have  been  more  common ;  but  applied 
to  the  times  in  which  we  live,  hypocrisy  is  so  far  from  being 
a  frequent  vice,  that  we  much  more  frequently  see  men 
ashamed  of  the  religion  they  do  possess,  than  pretenders  to 
any  degree  of  it  which  they  have  never  attained ;  the  hypoc- 
risy of  impiety  is  a  common  vice,  the  hypocrisy  of  religion 
is  not ;  it  is  most  true  that  many  men  fear  God,  who  would 
not  have  the  world  believe  that  they  fear  him ;  if  the  Gospel 
has  its  open  enemies,  it  has  too  its  timid  friends,  and  it  is  not 
every  one  who  would  be  pleased  to  confess  to  the  world,  the 

2^* 


258        ON  THE  FOLLY  OF  BEING  ASHAMED  OF  RELIGION. 

vivacity  of  that  hope,  and  the  extent  of  that  consolation  which 
he  derives  from  the  rehgion  of  Christ. 

To  some  this  may  seem  a  good  sign ;  it  may  be  urged  that 
men  are,  therefore,  better  than  at  the  first  sight  they  appear 
to  be ;  that  there  is  more  of  real  religion  in  the  world,  than 
the  despondency  of  the  pious  and  the  good  allows  them  to 
suppose ;  but  this  is  a  most  mistaken  view,  for  why  is  Christ 
denied  before  men,  if  that  denial  does  not  carry  with  it  a  cer- 
tain appearance  of  bravery  to  the  unthinking  multitude  ?  why 
are  men  ashamed  of  rehgion,  if  the  name  oif  religion  does  not 
convey  with  it  some  feeling  of  weakness  and  inferiority  ? 
why  are  the  most  beautiful,  and  the  most  solemn  feelings  of 
the  heart  suppressed  if  there  is  not  a  lurking,  half-formed 
impiety  in  that  mass  of  human  beings,  who  are  formed  only 
by  circumstances,  and  who  take  their  morals  and  their  religion 
from  the  temper  of  the  times  in  which  they  live. 

This  shame  of  appearing  too  rehgious,  proceeds  principally 
from  the  fear  of  ridicule,  of  which  ridicule  unfortunately  all 
things  are  susceptible,  exactly  in  proportion  to  their  dignity 
and  grandeur.  But  young  pei-sons  should  leam  at  their  first 
entrance  into  life,  the  secret  of  converting  this  ridicule  into 
respect;  the  fool  who  laughs  at  you  for  your  pious  deport- 
ment, will  redouble  his  contempt  when  he  perceives  that  he 
is  successful ;  take  care  that  your  piety  is  genuine,  that  it  is 
neither  fanatical  nor  superstitious ;  and  when  you  have  seen 
that  it  is  good,  persevere  in  it  calmly  and  immovably ;  con- 
fess Christ  before  the  world,  not  with  the  ostentation  of  a 
Pharisee ;  but  with  the  firmness  of  a  man ;  God,  who  seeth  in 
secret,  will  reward  you  openly;  and  the  very  wretch  who 
mocked  you,  will  be  the  first  to  honour  your  courage  and  to 
respect  your  zeal.  It  is  the  greatest  of  all  mistakes  to  yield 
one  step  of  your  life  to  the  clamours  of  impiety ;  the  enemies 
of  rehgion  are  aware  of  the  powerful  weapon  they  wield,  but 
they  are  also  aware  that  they  are  injuring  man  and  offending 
God  ;  oppose  them  without  insolence  and  without  fear,  and 
when  you  have  repelled  their  aggression,  you  will,  if  that  be 
any  object,  secure  their  respect. 

But  it  may  be  asked,  why  we  are  bound  to  profess  rehgion 
openly  among  men  ?  Of  what  importance  are  those  opinions 
which  the  world  may  form  of  our  religion,  if  we  really  beheve 
what  religion  teaches,  and  practice  what  it  enjoins  ?  But  the 
fact  is,  we  are  not  only  bound  to  be  religious,  but  to  be  reli- 
gious in  such  a  manner  that  we  make  others  so ;  we  are  bound 


ON  THE  TOLLY  Of  BEING  ASHAMED  OF  RELIGION.         259 

to  make  the  faith  appear  honourable  among  men  ;  to  give  the 
timid  courage  to  profess  it ;  to  let  those  who  fluctuate  and 
doubt,  perceive  that  firmness  of  character  which  is  derived 
from  genuine  piety;  to  teach  those  who  would  scoff' us  out  of 
our  religion,  that  we  are  walking  above  the  world,  that  their 
scorn  cannot  reach  us,  but  that  if  it  did,  we  should  be  proud 
to  bear  every  persecution  malignity  could  inflict,  to  show  our 
humble  gratitude  for  all  the  religious  blessings  we  enjoy. 

But,  perhaps  I  have  gone  too  far  in  animadverting  on  this 
sinful  shame  of  rehgion,  before  I  have  pointed  out  the  most 
flagrant  instances  in  which  we  are  guilty  of  it.  If,  in  such 
■enumeration,  I  should  mention  any  example,  an  individual 
instance  of  which  may  appear  to  be  of  little  moment,  remem- 
ber what  such  instances  would  amount  to,  if  they  were  com- 
mon, and  what  a  total  corruption  would  ensue  from  the  gene- 
ral neglect  of  such  duties. 

To  come  then  to  the  ordinary  scenes  of  life  ; — that  man  is 
ashamed  of  his  religion  who  scruples  to  express  his  disappro- 
bation of  any  licentious  and  blasphemous  conversation  by 
which  it  is  attacked.  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  every  one  to 
reason ;  it  is  the  privilege  only  of  age  or  of  authority,  to  re- 
buke ;  but  every  one  can  make  others  understand  that  he  is 
displeased,  that  his  finest  feelings  have  been  trampled  upon, 
and  his  strongest  opinion  despised.  It  may  poison  vicious 
mirth,  but  it  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  incur  this  temporary 
displeasure,  and  to  offend  by  the  rigour  of  his  nature,  rather 
than  to  sin  by  its  facility. — This  is  one  occasion  for  professing 
Christ  before  men;  an  occasion  very  arduous  to  a  gentle  na- 
ture, because  it  is  necessary  to  run  counter  to  the  tenour  of 
men's  spirits,  and  to  quench  the  vivacity  of  pleasure  by  a 
dignified  and  serious  concern ;  but  painful  as  it  is,  it  must  be 
done.  Wherever  we  are  called  upon  to  promote  the  interests 
of  man  and  the  glory  of  .God,  by  professing  Christ  before  the 
w^orld,  if  we  deny  him,  he  also  will  deny  us  on  the  judgment 
day :  He,  the  only  mediator  between  the  dust  and  ashes  which 
we  are,  and  the  God  that  gave  them  life. 

To  comply  with  any  custom  or  fashion  of  the  world,  which 
we  know  to  be  in  opposition  to  the  precepts  of  religion,  and 
to  comply,  merely,  because  we  are  averse  to  confess  the  power 
.  which  religion  has  over  us,  is  to  deny  Christ  before  the  world, 
'and  to  fear  man  more  than  God.— -It  is  our  duty  at  such  time, 
not  only  to  dissent,  but  to  state  the  true  reason  for  that  dis- 
sent ;  to  make  it  clear  that  we  abstain  from  the  action  or  dis- 


260        ON  THE  FOLLY  OF  BEING  ASHAMED  OF  RELIGION. 

sent  from  the  custom,  because  it  is  religiously  wrong,  because 
God  has  forbidden  it,  because  no  man  can,  with  any  consist- 
ency, profess  himself  a  Christian,  and  violate  the  plainest 
rules  which  Christ  has  taught. — This  is  antiquated  language ; 
there  is  nothing  in  it  of  that  polished  facility,  which  is  perpe- 
tually crumbling  away  the  ancient  barriers  of  good  and  evil ; 
but  say  it  modestly,  say  it  simply,  say  it  kindly,  say  it  from 
the  bottom  of  your  heart,  and  you  will  speak  and  act  in  the 
genuine  spirit  of  a  Christian;  you  will  confess  Christ  before 
men,  and  in  a  great  and  a  perilous  season,  he  will  confess 
you  before  our  Father  which  is  in  Heaven. 

The  truth  is,  that  men  of  refined  taste  are  unwilling  to  con- 
fess the  influence  which  religion  possesses  over  them,  from 
the  apprehension  that  their  motives  will  be  mistaken ;  rehgion 
is  sometimes  a  veil  worn  by  hypocrites ;  sometimes  it  is  an 
instrument  for  obtaining  power ;  sometimes  men  make  it  a 
cloak  for  gratifying  their  resentments,  and  raise  the  cry  of 
impiety  against  those  whom  they  envy  or  hate ;  and  some- 
times religion  degenerates  into  fanaticism,  and  works  the 
utter  decay  of  all  the  best  faculties  of  the  mind ;  all  these  im- 
putations may  be  made  against  the  man  who  professes  Christ 
before  the  world ;  but  you  are  not  fit  to  be  a  Christian,  if  you 
cannot  bear  that  your  motives  should  be  for  a  moment  mis- 
taken ;  take  care  that  you  do  not  use  religion  as  the  instru- 
ment of  your  ambition  and  your  hatred ;  be  not  clad  in  the 
cloak  of  hypocrisy ;  beware  of  a  mad  and  foolish  enthusiasm ; 
keep  your  hearts  pure  from  the  reality  of  these  vices,  and  be 
sure  that  the  imputation  of  them  will  never  remain  long  upon 
you ;  but  at  all  events  tremble  to  deny  Christ  before  men ; 
but,  when  shame  and  danger  are  at  hand,  come  forward  and 
say,  I  am  one  of  these,  I  am  a  GaHlean,  1  was  with  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  ;  for  if  you  deny  him  from  the  fear  of  men,  the  time 
■v^ill  come  when  you  will  feel  the  anguish  of  Peter,  and  like 
him  go  forth,  and  weep  bitterly. 

To  conceal  even  crime  increases  it,  and  men  are  inclined 
to  extend  some  slight  degree  of  indulgence  to  vices  candidly 
confessed.  But  what  indulgence  have  they  for  him,  who 
blushes  at  the  God  to  whom  he  prays  ?  who  disowns  the  sup- 
plication that  has  just  been  poured  forth  from  his  heart? 
Who  struts  away  before  men  as  a  free  and  original  spirit ; 
and  then  casts  himself  down  before  that  being,  whom  he 
knows  to  be  the  rewarder  and  the  punisher  of  men,  and  from 
whose  hand  the  thunder  and  the  manna  fall  ?     As  it  will  be 


ON  THE  FOLLY  OF  BEING  ASHAMED  OF  RELIGION.         281 

more  tolerable  for  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment, that  never  knew  Christ,  than  for  that  city  where  he 
taught  and  died ;  so  also  it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the 
scoffer ;  it  shall  be  better  even  for  the  fool,  that  says  in  his 
heart  there  is  no  God,  than  for  him  who  looks  up  to  a  heaven 
that  disgraces  him ;  and  pins  his  soul  upon  a  faith,  which  he 
smothers  as  a  crime.  And  what  after  all  is  this  weakness 
that  we  are  afraid  of  confessing  before  men  ?  that  in  this  frail 
and  feverish  existence  we  want  the  aid  of  rehgion  ;  that  where 
there  are  so  many  human  beings,  we  are  afraid  to  lose  so 
much  we  wish  to  enjoy,  and  such  little  life  to  enjoy  it ;  that 
we  do  venture  to  hope  all  things  are  regulated  here  by  a  wise 
■and  a  just  God ;  but  this  is  not  all ;  if  the  whole  truth  is  told, 
it  will  turn  out  that  we  believe  in  another  world,  that  we  think 
the  angel  of  God  will  come,  and  separate  the  wicked  from 
the  just ;  that  the  record  of  Christ,  which  is  received  by  half 
the  world,  is  acknowledged  by  us  also ;  that  under  the  im- 
pression of  these  truths,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  we  do 
sometimes  most  fervently  implore  the  pity  and  protection  of 
the  great  God  of  the  universe ;  this  is  what  we  would  not 
have  men  know  ;  these  are  the  shameful  discoveries  which 
we  dread  to  reveal  to  the  impious,  which  would  put  an  end 
for  ever  to  all  careless  bravery  about  rehgion,  and  sink  us  at 
once  in  the  estimation  of  thie  most  profligate  and  abandoned 
of  men. 

Whatever  we  think  or  do,  we  are  naturally  induced  to  de- 
fend ;  our  pride  carries  us  to  it,  it  is  the  genius  of  our  nature  ; 
we  often  exceed  the  measure  of  right  in  obeying  that  feeling, 
but  here  pride  is  a  virtue ;  inflexible  perseverance  is  a  great 
excellence,  intrepid  avowal  is  a  sacred  duty ;  we  may  give 
way  to  all  that  conviction  that  our  cause  is  right,  without  the 
smallest  possibility  of  any  excess.  We  are  placed  in  such  a 
situation  that  we  are  promoting  our  salvation  by  adhering  to 
our  opinions,  and  performing  one  of  the  highest  duties  of  re- 
ligion, by  defending  the  decisions  of  our  understanding. 

Lastly,  we  ought  to  learn  something  of  intrepidity  from  bad 
men.  There  can  be  no  reason  why  they,  who  believe  that 
the  soul  perishes,  should  exalt  themselves  above  us  who  have 
not  abandoned  the  hope  of  an  hereafter ;  it  is  a  strange  cause 
for  increase  of  confidence  that  they  consider  themselves  out  of 
the  protection  of  Providence ;  and  the  worst  of  all  excuses  for 
despondent  shame,  that  we  strive  to  model  our  lives  and  ac- 
tions, after  a  pure  law  revealed  to  us  from  above. 


262         ON  THE  FOLLY  OF  BEING  ASHAMED  OF  RELIGION. 

It  is  a  disgusting  spectacle  to  see  religion  tinged  with  ar- 
rogance ;  but  a  consciousness  of  its  own  dignity,  a  resolution 
never  to  be  shamed  from  its  principles,  a  promptitude  on  all 
trying  occasions,  to  proclaim  them  with  increased  firmness, 
and  to  put  on  even  the  spirit  of  martyrdom  in  their  support, 
this  spirit  a  Christian  must  assume ;  without  it  he  is  no  Chris- 
tian ;  for  our  great  master  has  never  taught  us  to  be  so  humble 
as  to  yield  up  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  to  every  invader  that 
approaches,  but  teaching  us  in  all  other  things,  to  be  meek 
like  him,  he  has  taught  us  in  this,  to  be  firm  like  him,  to  bear 
witness  to  the  truth,  without  any  fear  of  men.  And  he  has 
told  us,  if  we  deny  him  before  the  world,  he  also  will  deny 
us  at  the  last  and  dreadful  day,  before  the  Father  which  is  in 
Heaven, 


SERMON   XXXVIII 

ON    INVASION. 


Then  said  Judas  Maccabeus,  it  is  better  for  us  to  die  in  battle  than  to  be- 
hold the  calamities  of  our  people,  and  our  sanctuary.  Nevertheless^  as 
the  will  of  God  in  Heaven  is,  so  let  him  do. — 1st  book  of  Maccabees 
III.  VERSE  59. 

"*It  is  not  I  believe  in  strictness,  the  practice  of  our  church 
to  seek  for  texts  in  the  Apocryphal  writings ;  I  have,  however, 
ventured  to  do  so  in  this  particular  instance,  to  recall  to  your 
notice  the  books  of  the  Maccabees  ; — a  piece  of  history  glow- 
ing with  eloquence  and  piety,  pregnant  with  good  example, 
and  applicable  in  the  happiest  manner,  to  the  perils  of  the 
present  time.  These  books  relate  to  one  of  those  positions 
of  human  affairs  which  awakens  every  good  feeling  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  contemplate  it,  which,  by  the  hidden 
energies  it  calls  forth,  and  by  the  secret  power  which  it  has 
to  make  men  better,  and  braver  than  themselves,  communi- 
cates to  history  the  vivacity  and  interest  of  romance.  This, 
however,  is  the  least  important  consequence  of  such  history 
as  relates  successful  resistance  to  tyranny ;  it  is  a  luminous 
beacon  to  the  world,  a  perpetual  warning  to  mankind  never 
to  be  oppressed ;  it  teaches  us  in  times  like  these,  to  measure 
force  not  by  the  numbers  of  men,  but  by  the  passions  with 
which  they  are  actuated,  and  the  rights  for  which  they  con- 
tend. It  shows  us  that  all  can  be  gained  by  courage  when 
all  seems  lost ;  and  that  those  who,  like  Judas,  can  feel  that 
it  is  better  to  die  than  to  suffer,  may  enjoy,  like  Judas,  vic- 
tory and  renown. 

*  This  Sermon  was  preached  before  a  large  body  of  volunteers  in  the 
Metropolis,  in  the  Summer  of  1804,  when  the  danger  of  invasion  was  con- 
sidered to  be  imminent. 


364  ON  INVASION. 

Nor  is  it  a  slight  thing,  that  by  enforcing  our  beh'ef  in  the 
moral  order  of  the  universe,  such  history  teaches  us  to  depend 
on  Almighty  God.  When  we  see  the  immense  armies  of 
Antiochus  defeated  by  a  few  of  these  bold  Hebrews,  and  hosts 
that  might  have  swallowed  up  the  whole  earth,  broken  to 
pieces  one  after  the  other,  by  the  valour  of  this  extraordinary 
man,  we  begin  then  to  see  that  the  world  is  safe  ;  that  there 
is  a  reaction  of  human  passions,  a  mighty  order,  awfully 
planned,  mercifully  conceived,  carefully  preserved,  by  which 
the  sum  of  human  happiness  is  imperishable.  From  such 
consolatory  examples  as  these,  (in  which,  I  thank  Heaven  no 
history  is  deficient,)  when  we  have  heard  long  of  the  reign  of 
tyrants,  we  have  the  firmest  confidence  that  God  is  preparing 
for  us  relief.  No  man  can  tell  the  hour  and  the  day,  but 
there  is  a  secret  and  encouraging  conviction  that  the  time  of 
liberation  will  at  last  come.  God  has  said  to  the  waves,  thus 
far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  farther :  we  have  the  evidence  of  our 
senses  that  he  is  obeyed :  I  believe  the  same  God  has  said  to 
human  passions,  thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  farther ;  and 
that  the  feelings  of  men  obey  him  like  the  waters  of  the  sea. 
I  believe  it  to  be  his  eternal  decree,  that  such  tyrants  as  An- 
tiochus shall  at  last  raise  up  such  heroes  as  Judas :  and  when 
I  see  the  men  of  my  own  land  coming  out  ready  for  war,  as 
you  are  doing  this  day,  I  see  the  same  marks  of  eternal  order 
and  wisdom,  that  has  reared  up  the  rocks  to  save  us  from  the 
deep  ; — you  are  the  barriers,  and  you  are  the  rocks  that  limit 
unjust  aggression,  and  ambitious  violence ;  a  nation  of  free 
men,  sacramented  together,  a  joining  of  all  hands,  a  knitting 
of  all  hearts,  the  cry  of  the  valiant  Judas,  that  it  is  better  to 
die !  these  make  the  boundaries  of  rapine  and  of  desola- 
tion ;  at  these  awful  signs  the  robbers  of  the  earth  are  ap- 
palled, and  dread  lest  they  should  have  provoked  mankind 
enough. 

Such  are  the  feelings  with  which  we  are  naturally  inspired 
by  the  perusal  of  this  spirited  history,  in  which  the  parallel 
to  our  present  situation  is  so  exact  that  it  should  be  the 
manual  of  the  times.  But  from  this  general  eulogium 
on  the  history  of  the  Maccabees,  I  must  proceed  to  an 
examination  of  the  particular  text  which  I  have  extracted 
from  it. 

This  sentiment  of  Judas  was  pronounced  at  the  eve  of  one 
of  the  greatest  battles  which  he  fought ;  on  the  morrow  he  was 
about  to  commit  to  the  chance  of  war  the  fate  of  the  holy  city 


ON  INVASION.  265 

and  of  the  chosen  people  ;  his  address  to  his  Httle  army  con- 
tains a  morahty  which  is  simple,  just  and  subHme.  "Arm 
yourselves,  (he  says,)  and  be  valiant  men,  sAd  see  that  ye 
be  in  readiness  against  the  morning,  that  ye  may  fight  with 
these  nations  that  are  assembled  together  against  us  and  our 
sanctury,  to  destroy  us.  For  it  is  better  for  us  to  die  in  battle 
than  to  behold  the  calamities  of  our  people  and  our  sanc- 
tuary. Nevertheless,  as  the  will  of  God  in  heaven  is,  so  let 
him  do." 

In  conformity  then  with  the  sentiment  of  Judas,  I  shall 
endeavour  to  state  what  those  outward  advantages  are,  which 
constitute  the  principal  blessings  of  life,  and  under  the  priva- 
tion of  which,  a  wise  man  would  cease  to  wish  to  Hve. 

I  pass  over  the  herd  of  Epicurus,  who  would  exist  at  any 
price,  and  under  any  complication  of  baseness  and  anguish.  I 
am  addressing  myself  to  men  who  love  a  moral,  not  an  animal 
life,  a  life  not  numbered  by  days,  but  by  feelings  and  passions, 
and  who  know  that  there  is  somewhere  or  other  a  point 
of  suffering  when  (if  such  be  the  will  of  God)  it  is  better 
to  die. 

One  circumstance,  then,  which  much  enhances  the  pleasure 
of  life  is  liberty.  Without  liberty  the  value  of  life  is  doubt- 
ful; to  see  oppression  without  interference,  to  suffer  it  without 
resistance,  to  consider  that  life  and  property  are  at  the  mercy 
of  one  who  has  no  more  natural  right  to  Hve  or  to  enjoy  than 
ourselves,  is  a  source  of  the  most  bitter  and  unquiet  feelings  to 
elevated  minds.  For  liberty,  many  have  ventured  their  lives 
who  knew  liberty  only  by  description.  We  have  lived  the 
life  of  free  men,  we  have  heard  the  name  of  freedom  when 
we  were  children,  and  in  all  the  relations  of  life  we  have 
found  it  to  be  more  than  a  name.  The  enjoyment  of  it  is  so 
wrought  and  tempered  into  our  daily  habits,  that  any  internal 
attempt  to  destroy  the  constitution  of  this  realm  could  not  suc- 
ceed but  by  the  most  enormous  waste  of  human  life. — The 
name  is  too  dear,  the  feeling  too  deep — the  habit  too  invete- 
rate ;  it  would  be  easier  almost  to  destroy  this  people,  than  to 
enslave  them ;  and  yet  what  are  the  sufferings  of  internal 
tyranny,  in  comparison  with  those  of  foreign  subjugation: 
First  there  would  be  burnings,  and  massacres,  and  plunders  ; 
a  promiscuous  carnage  of  the  English  race :  a  thousand 
flames  would  burst  forth  in  this  venerable  city,  and  shed  their 
horrid  light  upon  the  dying  and  the  dead ;  and  when  the 
s^vord  had  drank  its  full,  and  the  flower  of  this  race  was  per- 
33 


266  ON  INVASION. 

ished  away, — then  think  of  the  silence  of  a  land,  over  which 
an  avenging  enemy  had  passed ;  no  loom— no  plough — no 
ship — no  tolling  of  the  hell  to  church — no  cheerful  noise  of 
the  artificer — a  land  spent  and  extinguished,  a  people  apos- 
tate to  their  ancient  spirit  and  their  ancient  fame.  If  you 
think  life  worth  having  after  this,  if  you  will  live  when  Eng- 
land does  not  live ;  if  you  will  fawn  at  the  feet  of  a  foreign 
soldier,  for  a  few  years  of  existence  ;  if  you  will  put  on  the 
smiles  of  a  slave,  after  you  have  worn  the  countenance  of  a 
free  man,  then  live  on,  and  may  life  be  your  punishment !  You 
will  remember  when  it  is  too  late,  the  cry  of  Maccabeus,  that 
it  is  better  to  die  in  battle,  than  to  behold  the  calamities  of 
your  people  and  your  sanctuary. 

I  would  say  that  the  happiness  of  life  depends  upon  an  un- 
polluted sanctury,  upon  a  pure  state  of  rehgion  ;  without  it, 
crimes  multiply,  laxity  prevails  in  morals,  society  becomes  a 
compound  of  fraud  and  voluptuousness ;  the  motives  for  life 
are  weakened:  therefore  Judas  said  well  when  he  said,  1  will 
never  see  a  polluted  sanctuary. 

Life  becomes  more  valuable  under  a  wise  administration  of 
good  laws  gradually  elaborated  by  experience.  It  becomes 
more  valuable  in  a  cultivated  state  of  the  arts  and  sciences, 
more  in  a  high  state  of  commercial  and  agricultural  pros- 
perity of  our  country,  more  from  its  renown  among  the  na- 
tions of  the  world :  by  all  the  wisdom  that  has  been  employed 
to  make  that  country  great  and  good,  by  all  the  lives  that 
have  been  sacrificed  to  make  it  secure,  by  all  the  industry 
which  has  been  exerted  to  render  it  opulent,  by  the  deep  tinge 
which  it  has  received  of  the  Christian  character,  by  the  num- 
ber of  those  servants  of  God  who  have  left  in  their  lives  and 
writings  a  great  example  to  the  people,  by  the  rich  presents 
which  God  has  at  any  time  made  to  it  of  men  famous  for  their 
beautiful  sayings  and  their  genius :  by  this  measure  of  value 
the  loss  of  a  country  is  to  be  tried,  and  by  this  measure  we 
must  decide  whether  it  is  better  to  die  than  to  lose  it. 

There  is  another  consideration  to  which  Judas's  magnani- 
mous contempt  of  life  may  be  applied :  Born  to  higher  and 
to  better  things,  would  you  lead  a  hfe  of  manual  labour  X 
Would  you  cultivate  the  earth  you  once  possessed,  and  if  ye;^ 
could  put  up  with  such  a  life,  could  you  endure  it  for  others^ 
whom  you  love  more  than  yourselves  ?  All  this  Judas  had 
seen,  and  he  declared  it  was  better  to  die  than  to  see  it. 

I  have  thus   generally  stated  those  exterior  advantages 


ON  INVASION.  267 

which  give  a  value  to  life ;  now  let  me  apply  it  to  ^you,  and 
bring  it  home  to  the  chambers  of  your  hearts.  Do  you  feel 
that  you  are  free  men?  Have  you  good  laws?  Have  you  a 
pure  religion  ?  Is  England  cultivated  ?  Is  it  rich  ?  Is  it 
powerful  ?  Is  it  renowned?  Did  you  ever  hear  it  had  done 
great  deeds  ?  Did  you  ever  hear  it  had  nourished  great  men  ? 
I  know  that,  but  for  the  sanctity  of  this  place  you  would  answer 
with  loud  shouts  and  cries  that  all  these  things  are  so.  Why 
then  I  say,  in  the  hour  of  danger  remember  Judas,  and  think 
it  better  to  die  in  battle,  than  to  behold  the  calamities  of  such 
a  people  and  such  a  land. 

But  in  order  to  put  on  the  spirit  of  Judas,  we  should  know 
well  that  it  will  bear  no  backsliding,  no  wavering,  no  compu- 
tation. The  resolution  once  taken,  we  must  advance,  or  we 
perish ;  we  must  not  imagine  that  the  danger  will  not  come, 
and  believe  we  are  playing  at  magnanimity  and  heroism  ;  the 
danger  is  pressing  on  against  us  with  rapid  strides  ;  in  a  little 
time  every  man  may  be  reminded  of  his  threats,  and  his 
covenant  of  war  and  courage  exacted  at  his  hands  ;  the  lintel 
post  of  every  door  may  be  smitten  with  blood,  and  the  loud 
cries  of  the  helpless,  the  sick  and  the  young  may  pierce  our 
hearts.  Be  not  deceived,  there  is  no  wall  of  adamant,  no  tri- 
ple flaming  sword,  to  drive  off  those  lawless  assassins  that  have 
murdered  and  pillaged  in  every  other  land ;  Heaven  has 
made  with  us  no  covenant,  that  there  should  be  joy  and 
peace  here,  and  waihng,  and  lamentation  in  the  world  be- 
sides ;  I  would  counsel  you  to  put  on  a  mind  of  patient  suf- 
fering and  noble  acting ;  whatever  energies  there  are  in  the 
human  mind,  you  will  want  them  all ;  every  man  will  be 
tried  to  the  very  springs  of  his  heart,  and  those  times  are  at 
hand  which  will  show  us  all  as  we  really  are,  with  the  gen- 
uine stamp  and  value,  be  it  much  or  be  it  little,  which  nature 
has  impressed  upon  each  living  soul. 

Having  thus  endeavoured  to  illustrate  and  enforce  the 
leading  principle  of  contempt  of  hfe,  contained  in  the  former 
part  of -this  text,  I  pass  on  to  its  conclusion,  and  to  the  other 
striking  part  of  the  character  of  Judas,  his  piety.  The  most 
splendid  writers  of  Pagan  history  have  nothing  equal  to  the 
sp  'ech  of  Judas  before  he  fights  with  Seron  and  his  host. 
"  Then  said  Judas  to  his  men  :  It  is  no  hard  matter  for  many 
to  be  shut  up  in  the  hands  of  a  few  ;  and  with  the  God  of 
heaven  it  is  all  one  to  dehver  with  a  small  company,  or 


268  ON  INVASION. 

with  a  great  multitude.  For  the  victory  of  battle  standeth 
not  in  the  multitude  of  an  host,  but  strength  cometh  from 
heaven ;  they  come  against  us  in  much  pride  and  iniquity  to 
destroy  us,  and  our  wives  and  children,  and  to  spoil  us  ;  but 
we  fight  for  our  lives  and  our  laws.  Wherefore,  the  Lord 
himself  will  overthrow  them  before  our  face  ;  and  as  for  ye, 
be  ye  not  afraid  of  them." 

The  different  manner  of  the  two  people  in  making  their 
attack,  is  solemn  and  affecting;  may  it  be  ominous.  "Then 
Nicanor,  and  they  that  were  with  him,  came  forward  with 
trumpets  and  songs  ;  but  Judas  and  his  company  encountered 
their  enemies  with  invocation  and  prayer ;  so  that  fighting 
with  their  hands,  and  praying  to  God  with  their  hearts,  they 
were  greatly  cheered."  You  will  listen  more  to  such  an 
example  than  to  many  precepts  ;  our  enemies  mock  at  God, 
and  say  it  is  their  own  arm  which  getteth  them  the  victory ; 
let  us  ask  the  aid  of  him  who  breaketh  in  pieces  the  chariot, 
and  snappeth  the  spear  asunder ;  who  is  more  to  be  feared 
than  an  army  with  banners.  They  may  mock,  but  in  truth 
the  angel  of  God  is  ever  present  at  the  battle ;  his  spirits 
and  ministers  hover  over  the  danger;  they  receive  the 
parting  spirits  of  Christians  ;  they  listen  to  the  distant  prayers 
of  kindred,  and  turn  away  the  arrow  from  a  father,  or  a 
child ;  without  their  knowledge,  not  one  shall  fall  to  the 
ground. 

A  greater  contest  than  that  in  which  we  are  engaged,  the 
world  has  never  seen  ;  for  we  are  not  fighting  the  battle  of 
our  country  alone,  but  we  are  fighting  to  decide  the  question, 
whether  there  shall  be  any  more  freedom  upon  the  earth.  If 
we  are  subdued,  the  great  objects  of  life  are  vanquished  ;  all 
reason  for  living  is  at  an  end.  There  remains  a  barren, 
vacant  earth,  from  which  every  good  man  would  beg  of  hea- 
ven that  he  might  escape.  But  I  have  better,  and  brighter 
hopes  ;  I  trust  in  the  watching  providence  of  Heaven,  in  the 
manly  sense,  and  the  native  courage  of  this  people.  I  believe 
they  will  act  now,  as  they  have  ever  acted  before — with  un- 
daunted boldness.  I  have  a  boundless  confidence  in  the 
Enghsh  character;  I  believe  that  they  have  more  of  real 
religion,  more  probity,  more  knowledge,  and  more  genuine 
worth,  than  exists  in  the  whole  world  besides  :  they  are 
the  guardians  of  pure  Christianity  ;  and  from  this  prostituted 
nation  of  merchants,  (as  they  are  in  derision  called,)  I  believe 


ON  INVASION.  369 

more  heroes  will  spring  up  in  the  hour  of  danger,  than  all 
the  mihtary  nations  of  ancient  and  modern  Europe  have 
ever  produced.  Into  the  hands  of  God,  then,  and  his  ever 
merciful  Son,  we  cast  ourselves,  and  wait  in  humble 
patience  the  result : — First  we  ask  for  victory,  but  if  that 

cannot  be,  we  have  only  one  other  prayer we  implore 

for  death. 


23* 


•|^       ■  .  .  ^<'.^.<r^,-:i>^4 


SERMON    XXXIX. 

UPON    THE    SPECIAL    INTERFERENCE 
OF    PROVIDENCE. 


And  when  Paul  had  gathered  a  bundle  of  sticks,  and  laid  them  on  the  fire, 
there  came  a  viper  out  of  the  heat,  and  fastened  on  his  hand.  And 
when  the  Barbarians  saw  the  venomous  beast  hang  on  his  hand,  they 
said,  this  man  is  a  murderer.  But  when  they  saw  no  harm  happen  to 
him,  they  changed  their  minds,  and  said  he  was  a  God. — Acts  xxviii.  3d 
and  following  verses. 

This  lively  picture^f  the  judgments  of  the  people  of  Melite, 
is  a  fair  example  of  the  general  disposition  of  all  multitudes, 
to  ascribe  the  striking  events  of  life  to  a  particular  Provi- 
dence; to  believe  that  every  instance  of  prosperity  is  a  reward 
sent  from  God;  and  every  example  of  adversity  a  punishment 
emanating  from  his  anger.  The  attack  of  the  serpent  the 
Barbarians  could  not  attribute  to  accident ;  the  slow  effect  of 
its  poison,  upon  the  body  of  the  apostle,  they  were  equally 
disposed  to  consider  as  miraculous;  an  action  natural  (though 
extraordinary)  it  could  not  be,  but  as  the  event  varied  its  as- 
pect, the  unconscious  animal  had  fastened  upon  a  murderer, 
or  wounded  a  god. 

Such  has  been  the  disposition  of  mankind,  in  all  ages,  to 
judge  of  the  interposition  of  the  Deity.  We  must  all  remem- 
ber, that  at  one  period  of  our  own  history,  a  regular  appeal 
was  made  to  the  immediate  judgments  of  Providence,  for 
the  establishment  of  innocence  or  guilt.  Such  an  appeal 
became  the  established  law  of  the  land  ;  and  the  magistrates 
looked  on  to  behold  the  innocent  man  walk  upon  the  summit 
of  the  waters,  or  trample  unhurt  upon  the  burning  iron.  It 
has,  in  fact,  ever  been  the  tendency  of  human  nature  to  liken 
divine  justice  to  human  justice  in  its  most  perfect  shape,  and 


UPON  THE  SPECIAL  INTERFERENCE  OF  PROVIDENCE.      271 

to  suppose  that  he,  to  whom  all  hearts  are  open,  would  never 
suffer  the  just  to  perish,  while  the  guilty  prosper  and  live. 
Such  ideas  are  very  natural ;  nor  is  it  at  all  difficult  to  under- 
stand whence  they  have  originated,  or  why  they  have  been 
so  generally  diffused ;  on  the  contrary  it  has  required  the  ex- 
perience of  ages,  and  the  endless  repetition  of  precept,  to 
wean  mankind  from  these  false  and  limited  conceptions  of 
divine  Providence  to  convince  them  that  the  Creator  has  not 
formed  himself  after  their  model,  and  that  the  ways  of  man 
are  not  necessarily  the  ways  of  God. 

Even  now,  it  is  the  pious  and  the  good  that  talk  most  of 
judgments  ;  to  say  that  an  event  was  brought  about  by  the 
special  interference  of  Providence,  is  considered  as  the  ge- 
nuine language  of  rehgion,  and  to  doubt  it  is  to  exhibit  a  cold 
and  sceptical  species  of  understanding.  I  will  endeavour, 
however,  to  show  that  an  habit  of  referring  all  the  events  of 
this  world  to  a  particular  Providence,  is  a  very  dangerous 
habit,  derogating  from  the  power  and  wisdom  of  the  Al- 
mighty, and  exceedingly  apt  to  expose  rehgion  to  the  scorn 
and  ridicule  of  unbelievers. 

in  the  first  place,  if  we  acquire  the  habit  of  speaking  per- 
petually of  judgments,  and  of  referring  everything  to  a  parti- 
cular interference  of  Providence,  how  are  we  to  get  over  the 
present  state  of  the  world,  as  it  exists  plainly  before  our 
eyes  ?  Is  it  the  good  only  who  are  covered  with  blessings  ? 
Does  this  earth  seem  to  be  the  inheritance  of  the  just  ?  Have 
we  never  seen  virtue  living  and  dying  in  wretchedness  ?  Is 
it  quite  new  to  us,  to  hear  of  the  unbroken  prosperity  of 
bad  men,  of  the  honours  which  they  reach,  and  of  the  gra- 
tifications which  they  enjoy  ?  Reconcile  if  you  can,  these 
appearances  with  your  supposition  of  the  perpetual  interfer- 
ence of  a  divine  Providence,  and  show  us  why  poverty  and 
anguish  are  not  kept  for  the  scourges  of  guilt  alone ;  why 
the  tears  of  the  good  ever  fall  down  upon  the  earth  ;  and 
why  the  just  cry  for  the  mercy  of  God.  While  you  mean 
to  be  pious,  in  referring  all  to  an  immediate  Providence, 
you  are,  in  fact,  depriving  religion  of  its  most  powerful 
argument ;  it  has  always  been  said,  you  are  not  to  look 
here  for  the  rewards  of  righteousness  ;  because  God  is  just, 
and  because  men  are  not  rewarded  here  according  to  their 
works,  because  we  do  not  perceive  a  wise  and  regular  system 
operating  in  the  distribution  of  human  happiness;  there- 
fore,  we   must   conceive,   that   there   is,   beyond   this  life, 


272     UPON  THE  SPECIAL  INTERFERENCE  OF  PROVIDENCE. 

^T  another  system  of  existence  where  this  apparent  injustice 
'  will  be  corrected,  and  the  happiness  we  enjoy  be  apportioned 
to  the  merits  we  possess.  One  of  the  most  striking  argu- 
ments for  futurity,  has  been  drawn  fronk  the  absence  of  that 
particular  Providence,  from  the  suspense  of  those  immediate 
judgments,  for  the  existence  of  which,  mistaken  piety  is  so 
apt  to  contend. 

By  pretending  that  virtue  and  vice  are  so  frequently 
punished  and  rewarded  by  the  Deity,  even  in  this  world, 
and  by  struggling  against  the  plain  current  of  facts,  you 
•^  \  throw  an  air  of  ridicule  upon  religion,  by  compelling  it  to 
account  for  events  under  a  false  theory  ;  religion  is  taunted 
with  the  high  fortune  of  impious  conquerors  ;  men  expect 
that  we  should  explain  why  innocent  and  peaceful  nations 
are  massacred  and  rooted  up  ;  when  they  see  that  it  is  not 
always  the  good  cause  which  prevails,  but  the  strong  cause, 
they  fall  off  from  God,  and  think  hghtly  of  that  Providence 
which  they  do  not  find  such  as  human  error  has  described  it 
to  be.  We  know  that  God  sees  all;  and  that  as  the  powerful 
language  of  Scripture  says,  the  hairs  of  our  head  are  num- 
bered ;  that  all  things  originate  from  God,  we  also  know ; 
but  do  they  originate  from  the  general  rules  he  prescribes,  or 
from  a  partial  interference  for  each  particular  object  ?  Is 
it  a  great  law,  for  instance,  prescribed  from  the  beginning, 
that  the  excesses  of  the  body  should  be  punished  by  the 
pains  of  the  body,  or  does  the  sudden  vengeance  of  the  Al- 
mighty smite  the  voluptuary  with  the  disease  which  termi- 
nates a  shameless  and  pampered  life  ?  Is  it  part  of  our 
original  creation,  that  the  pangs  of  remorse  should  follow 
guilt  ?  or  does  God  send  upon  every  sinner  this  evil  spirit  of 
the  mind  for  his  present  torment  ?  That  we  are  all  under  the 
guidance  and  omniscience  of  an  Almighty  being,  no  human 
heart  can  doubt ;  but  the  laws  of  that  Almighty  are  grand,  are 
simple,  are  few  ;  nothing  so  derogatory  to  his  nature,  as  to 
suppose  that  he  is  perpetually  deviating  from  them,  or  that  he 
guides  one  human  being  by  many  separate  visitations  of  his 
power,  though  he  governs  unnumbered  worlds  by  a  single  act 
of  his  will. 

If  a  general  law  were  not  impressed  upon  the  heavenly 
bodies,  which  guided  them  unerringly  in  their  course  ;  if  it 
needed  fresh  interposition  to  renew  their  vigour,  and  to  con- 
tinue their  direction,  it  would  at  once  argue  a  want  of  power, 
and  of  foresight  in  their  maker  ;  but  in  the  moral  world,  we 


^ 


UPON  THE  SPECIAL  INTERFERENCE  OF  PROVIDENCE.     273 

do  not  perceive  how  we  are  diminishing  our  notions  of  the 
Deity,  by  supposing  his  original  plan  of  human  affairs  to 
be  so  imperfect,  that  he  is  always  occupied  in  correcting  it. 
If  God  does  so  often  interfere  to  punish  the  guilty,  why  was 
not  the  original  scheme  of  human  affairs  so  constructed,  that 
sin  should  produce  misery  with  as  much  certainty  as  each 
fruit  grows  from  its  proper  seed.  If  such  is  the  case  now, 
why  are  the  immediate  judgments  of  God  necessary  ?  but  if 
we  conceive  such  judgments  to  be  so  common,  are  we  not 
guilty  of  impiety,  in  supposing  the  original  plan  of  the  uni- 
verse to  have  been  so  imperfect,  that  the  Creator  of  all  is 
perpetually  occupied  in  its  correction  ? 

We  talk  of  judgments;  but  by  what  means  are  we  to 
ascertain  what  is  reward,  what  punishment,  till  we  have  seen 
the  ultimate  consequence  of  every  event  ?  Joseph  in  the 
dungeon  knew  not  that  he  should  be  the  lord  of  Egypt. 
Abraham,  about  to  slaughter  his  son,  never  thought  of  the 
coming  blessings  of  God.  The  wretched  Daniel  did  not 
believe  that  he  should  be  lifted  up  from  among  the  lions,  to 
be  the  chief  servant  of  the  eastern  king.  Many  a  soul  has 
been  saved  to  God  by  sudden  poverty;  many  have  been 
taught  by  diseases,  and  by  the  whisperings  of  death.  Some 
wealth  has  ruined,  some  honour,  some  fame  ;  we,  who  talk  so 
arrogantly  of  God's  judgments  ;  alas,  we  know  not  when  he 
blesses,  when  he  destroys,  whether  he  is  about  to  humble  us 
by  apparent  good,  or  to  raise  us  up  through  the  ministry  of 
sorrow  and  of  pain. 

Another  evil  resulting  from  the  perpetual  supposition  of 
judgments  is,  that  it  has  a  tendency  to  make  success  the 
measure  of  merit ;  if  good  and  ill  fortune  are  reward  and 
punishment,  it  will  be  difficult  not  to  infer,  that  that  cause 
is  just  which  is  triumphant ;  that  unjust  which  is  overcome ; 
a  fortunate  man  and  a  good  man  will  be  synonymous  terms, 
and  unhappiness  will  be  the  infallible  proof  of  sin  ;  a  method 
of  decision  pregnant  with  every  evil,  and  against  which  reli- 
gious and  moral  wisdom  have  in  every  age  made  the  most 
decided  stand. 

This  habit  of  judging  of  the  designs  of  Providence,  and  of 
determining  what  are  judgments,  what  ordinary  events,  is 
apt,  I  fear,  to  cherish  a  species  of  arrogance  and  persecution 
little  compatible  with  Christian  humiHty.  From  what  power 
of  divination  do  I  pretend  to  say,  that  this  man  is  a  murderer, 
and  that  man  a  god  ?  where  is  that  communication  with  the 


274     T7P0N  THE  SPECIAL  INTERFERENCE  OF  PROVIDENCE. 

Divine  nature,  that  gives  me  authority  to  pronounce  the 
punishment  of  any  human  being  to  be  miraculous,  to  say  that 
God  has  singled  out  any  one  as  the  object  of  his  preternatural 
vengeance,  whose  life,  after  all,  may  be  wiser  and  better  than 
mine  ?  Let  it  be  my  care  so  to  live,  that  the  destroying  angel 
come  not  forth  against  me.  I  cannot  read  the  signs  of  Heaven 
in  another's  destiny ;  nor  can  I  tell  when  nature  moves  on  as 
she  is  wont,  when  the  voice  of  God  calls  her  from  her  ancient 
course. 

After  all,  however,  let  it  be  remembered,  it  is  only  of  the 
frequency  and  excess  of  this  discovery  of  judgments,  that  a 
rational  complaint  can  be  made  ;  that  God  did  interfere,  in 
Scriptural  ages,  with  his  judgments,  we  know  from  Scriptural 
authority ;  nor  is  it  weak,  or  superstitious  to  conceive,  that 
on  the  solemn  epochs  of  human  affairs,  the  judgments  of  God 
do  now  go  abroad  on  the  earth  ;  and,  that  what  looks  all 
human,  is  sometimes  the  work  of  invisible  power ;  but  if  you 
perpetually  say,  this  is  of  God,  and  that  of  God,  you  do  not 
glorify  the  Creator,  but  you  dishonour  the  magnitude  of  those 
attributes,  with  which  the  piety  of  his  creatures  has  sur- 
rounded his  nature ;  you  consider  those  rules  which  he  has 
formed  for  the  moral  government  of  the  world  to  be  so  im- 
perfect, that  they  require  perpetual  correction,  and  incessant 
change ;  you  erect  yourself  into  an  interpreter  of  God's  will, 
and  a  judge  of  man's  merit ;  but,  what  is  worse  than  these, 
by  teaching  what  is  notoriously  untrue,  that  God  commonly 
interferes  in  this  world,  to  punish  the  wicked  and  reward  the 
good,  you  shake,  in  the  minds  of  weak  men,  the  very  founda- 
tion of  all  religion,  for  they  cannot  live  a  year,  or  look  with 
the  most  careless  eye  upon  the  fate  of  men,  and  empires, 
without  perceiving  that  these  things  are  not  so ;  and  then, 
with  rash  and  headlong  impiety,  they  doubt  of  a  superintend- 
ing Providence,  because  they  cannot  find  that  rapid  and 
visible  Providence  which  mistaken  zeal  is  ever  ready  to  per- 
ceive. All  is  noted  down  ;  nothing  is  forgotten ;  there  is  not 
a  tear  you  draw  down  upon  the  face  of  a  human  being,  nor  a 
feeling  of  wretchedness  you  can  strike  into  his  heart,  but 
what  it  is  eternally  recorded  against  you  ;  no  holy  desire,  no 
secret  sin,  are  lost ;  in  pain,  in  sorrow,  in  death,  God  is  with 
us,  but  we  may  hve  on,  untouched  in  our  sin  ;  the  hghtning 
shall  not  harm  us,  nor  the  pestilence  lay  us  low  ;  there  is  a 
second,  and  a  retributive  world,  where  our  punishment  will 
come ;  the  closing  scene,  the  true  interpretation  of  this  am- 


UPON  THE  SPECIAL  INTERFERENCE  OF  PROVIDENCE.      275 

biguous  and  distressing  world  in  which  we  live  ;  this,  and 
this  only,  explains  why  those  frequent  judgments  do  not  go 
forth,  which  it  is  so  natural  to  man  to  expect ;  why  the  ser- 
pent is  not  armed  against  the  murderer,  and  the  impotent 
against  the  pious  and  the  good.  And  let  us  gratefully  remem- 
ber, that  while  the  doctrine  of  futurity  explains  the  present 
endurance  of  evil,  without  recurring  to  the  false  supposition 
of  perpetual  judgments,  this  doctrine  does  not  rest  upon 
conjecture,  is  not  invented  to  meet  the  difficulty,  but  is  re- 
vealed to  us  in  the  page  of  Scripture,  and  confirmed  by  the 
death  of  Christ. 


SERMON    XL. 

ON  TKUE  EELIGION 


True  religion,  and  undefiled  before  God  the  Father,  is  this;  to  visit  the 
fatherless,  and  widows  in  affliction,  and  to  keep  yourselves  unspotted 
from  the  world. — James  i.  verse  27. 

Our  happiness  in  this  life  as  well  as  in  a  life  to  come,  de- 
pends so  entirely  upon  the  cultivation  of  rational  religion, 
that  the  efforts  to  excite  a  just  sense  of  its  importance  in  the 
minds  of  every  Christian  congregation  cannot  be  too  fre- 
quently or  too  warmly  repeated.  Even  since  the  revelation 
of  Jesus  Christ,  man  has  too  often  worshiped  his  God  by 
idolatry,  by  childish  and  absurd  ceremonies,  by  tedious  and 
despicable  disputes,  by  the  tears  of  chained  heretics,  by 
wasted  provinces,  by  the  burnt  incense  of  human  bodies  ; 
every  vice  and  every  error  have  been  shrined  in  the  name 
of  religion,  and  the  merciless  inquisitor,  while  he  blasted  his 
most  beautiful  creations,  did  it  for  the  praise  and  glory  of  his 
God. 

These  tremendous  warnings  should  impress  upon  our 
minds  the  difficulty  of  attaining  to  proper  notions  of  true 
religion ;  and  though  there  have  been,  in  these  latter  times, 
great  improvements  in  our  conception  of  it,  there  may  be  yet 
some  remains  of  error,  something  which  may  escape  our 
vigilant  examination,  and  baffle  the  efforts  of  the  most  serious 
and  most  evangelical  minds. 

Under  the  term  religion,  are  comprehended  Faith,  Devo- 
tion, and  Practice ;  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ,  our  blessed  Lord  ;  prayer,  public  and  private,  and 
obedience  to  what  we  know  to  be  the  law  of  God,  or  what  we 
believe  to  be  his  will. 

First,  in  all  our  considerations  of  religion,  we  are  too  apt 


ON  TRUE  RELIGION.  277 

to  forget  the  ultimate  end  for  which  our  Ahnighty  Creator 
made  himself  known  to  us ;  we  are  weak  enough  to  conceive 
that  God  is  soothed  by  our  praises,  and  gratified  by  our  adu- 
lation ;  that  the  maker  of  a  million  of  worlds  can  dehght  in 
the  praises  and  hosannahs  of  perishable  men ;  that  any  act  of 
ours  can  illustrate  his  dignity  or  magnify  his  name  ;  we  be- 
lieve that  we  are  commanded  to  adore  him,  not  to  make  our- 
selves good,  but  to  make  him  glorious  ;  not  to  set  before  that 
which  is  frail,  a  model  of  purity,  but  to  brighten  that  which 
is  pure  by  the  breath  of  frailty. 

From  this,  and  from  other  causes  proceeds  that  fatal  and 
common  tendency  of  mankind  to  exalt  the  devotional  above 
the  practical  part  of  rehgion ;  and  to  relax  in  the  real  per- 
formance of  what  the  Gospel  enjoins  exactly  in  proportion  as 
they  comply  with  the  ceremonies  which  it  institutes.  Not 
that  any  but  the  lowest  fanatics  openly  avow  their  neglect  of 
practical,  and  their  preference  of  verbal  piety ;  but,  that 
numbers  are  guilcy  of  the  error,  almost  without  knowing  it 
themselves,  and  certainly  without  feeling  the  smallest  dispo- 
sition to  defend  it  in  theory ;  it  is  contrary  to  the  repeated 
declarations  of  the  Gospel;  it  is  derogatory  to  the  attributes 
of  the  Deity  to  suppose  that  religion  has  any  other  object 
than  the  happiness  of  mankind ;  that  Jesus  Christ  dwelt 
among  men  for  any  other  purpose  but  to  show  them  that 
rule  of  mortal  life  which  leads  them  to  life  eternal ;  and  all 
prayer  and  all  devotion,  should  be  resorted  to  for  these  ob- 
jects as  they  remind  us  of  that  powerful  being  we  adore,  as 
they  fix  in  our  hearts  the  sage,  rigorous  and  pure  rules  of 
morals  which  he  has  enacted,  as  they  set  before  our  eyes  the 
straight  path  and  narrow  gate  which  lead  to  the  dwellings  of 
the  just. 

In  the  moments  of  self-examination,  we  must  think  what 
shall  be  hereafter;  when  we  remember  with  satisfaction,  that 
we  were  always  on  our  knees  in  the  temple,  while  others 
were  pursuing  the  vain  business,  or  vainer  pleasures  of  the 
world,  let  us  beware  that  we  have  something  else  to  offer  to 
our  God  but  sainted  words,  and  holy  kneelings,  and  suppli- 
cating hymns ;  imagine  not,  that  statute  praise  and  written 
adoration  can  atone  for  a  dissipated, .selfish,  uncharitable  life, 
or  that  the  postures  of  our  bodies  will  be  taken  for  the  sin 
of  our  souls  ;  mere  devotion,  barren  of  good  actions,  differs  in 
nothing  from  the  gross  idolatry  of  Pagan  worship ;  flocks  and 
hecatombs  are  as  good  as  gestures  and  words  ;  they  offered 
34 


2T8  ON  TRUE  RELIGION. 

Up  the  blood  of  a  victim,  and  you  the  breath  of  5^  man ;  you 
approach  your  Creator  with  the  sound  of  pious  melody?  and 
they  brought  to  him  whom  they  thought  to  be  their  Creator, 
the  sweet  savour  of  burning  spices.  In  what  did  the  folly 
of  these  religions  consist,  but  that  they  thought  every  idle 
object  of  sense  more  acceptable  to  the  Deity  than  the  firm 
dominion  over  bad  passions  and  the  noble  exercise  of  aid  and 
mercy  to  mankind  ?  and  how  have  they  improved  upon  this 
error,  who  substitute  adulation  for  obedience  and  constantly 
neglect  the  rule  which  they  regularly  recite?  "  Not  every  one," 
says  our  Saviour,  "  who  sayeth  unto  me.  Lord!  Lord!  but  he 
that  doeth  the  will  of  my  Father,  which  is  in  Heaven;"  in 
truth,  the  first  condition  of  piety  is  much  easier  than  the  last ; 
it  is  easier  to  cry  Lord  !  Lord  !  than  to  do  his  will ;  it  is  easier 
to  extol  his  attributes  than  to  imitate  them,  even  at  the  hum- 
blest distance  ;  few  would  fail  of  immortality  if  the  only  price 
of  it  were  devotion,  and  many  would  purchase  on  their  knees, 
the  privilege  of  sinning  with  impunity;  it  is  not  here  that 
our  nature  is  tried  ;  this  is  not  the  proper  ordeal  of  man.  It 
is  more  difficult  to  forgive  an  injury,  to  embrace  an  enemy, 
to  stop  a  bitter  word,  or  to  sacrifice  a  beloved  pleasure  to 
charity,  than  to  repeat  a  liturgy  of  prayers ;  yet,  remember 
the  words:  True  religion,  and  undefiled  before  God  the  Fa- 
ther, is  this, — to  visit  the  fatherless,  and  widows  in  affliction, 
and  to  keep  yourselves  unspotted  from  the  world.  These 
are  the  real  sacrifices  to  God ;  there  is  more  joy  in  Heaven 
over  one  good  deed,  than  over  ninety  and  nine  solemn  sup- 
plications which  bring  forth  no  good  deed. 

At  the  same  time,  devotional  religion  is  so  necessary  to 
practical  religion,  and  so  important,  when  considered  as  an 
instrument  rather  than  an  end,  that  it  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive how  an  uniform  tenour  of  good  conduct  can  be  sup- 
ported without  it ;  from  the  perpetual  mention  of  the  attributes 
of  our  Creator  in  prayer,  we  fashion  in  our  minds  that  ideal 
model  of  excellence,  which,  like  a  flaming  pillar,  guides  us 
through  the  wilderness  of  life ;  in  prayer  we  are  reminded 
of  human  misery ;  the  hope  of  his  future  mercy,  the  persua- 
sive example  of  Christ  softens  the  heart  hardened  by  business 
and  pleasure ;  in  prayer,  all  that  is  bad,  and  low,  and  base  is 
forgotten ;  something  whfch  belongs  not  to  this  world  is  min- 
gled with  our  nature,  and  the  breath  of  God  is  breathed  upon 
us.  In  prayer  the  seeds  of  action  are  sown  ;  but  let  us  remem- 
ber we  shall  be  judged  by  the  fruit. 


-A 


ON  TRUE  RELIGION.  279 

Men  are  not  only  tempted  to  prefer  devotion  to  practice 
from  the  mistaken  notion  that  it  can  of  itself  be  acceptable  to 
the  Deity,  and  from  the  superior  facility  of  praying  like  a 
Christian  to  that  of  living  like  a  Christian;  but  because  it  is 
that  part  of  religion  of  which  the  world  takes  the  greatest 
cognizance ;  whereas  the  real  question  which  every  man 
should  put  to  his  own  soul,  is,  not  how  often  I  have  vowed 
to  do  good,  but  how  often  I  have  done  it ;  not  how  often  I  have 
repeated  the  law,  but  how  much  1  have  obeyed  it ;  not  what 
I  have  promised,  but  what  I  have  performed  ;  for  prayer  with- 
out good  action  is  nothing  but  increase  of  guilt,  because  it 
indicates  how  well  we  comprehended  and  how  accurately 
we  remembered  the  duty  which  we  have  neglected  to  dis- 
charge. 

Another  error  to  which  we  are  exposed  in  our  search  after 
true  religion,  is  that  of  intemperate  zeal  or  enthusiasm. ;  an  error 
which  often  leads  to  the  lowest  and  most  contemptible  fana- 
ticism; often  terminates  in  melancholy,  in  madness,  or  in 
voluntary  death.  The  passions  have  too  mighty  an  influence 
on  religious  opinion,  not  to  render  it  necessary  that  they 
should  be  suspected  and  watched.  Hope, — fear, — gratitude, 
—despair, — and  every  powerful  principle  of  our  nature^  may 
all  be  called  in  to  the  aid  of  fanaticism ;  artful  men,  or  mista- 
ken and  enthusiastic  men,  can  always  corrupt  some  one  pas- 
sion by  the  allurements  of  rehgion  ;  and,  by  that  unguarded 
avenue,  find  their  way  to  the  inward  heart.  When  once  men 
substitute  for  sinaple,  intelligible  rules  of  right  and  wrong, 
the  notion  of  extraordinary  impulse,  mysterious  feeling,  reli- 
gious instinct,  and,  in  general,  any  preternatural  and  myste- 
rious afTection,  reason  looks  like  indifference,  and  common 
sense  appears  to  border  upon  impiety  ;  extravagance  becomes 
the  test  of  godliness,  and  nothing  is  considered  as  acceptable 
to  the  Deity,  that  is  not  laughable  and  contemptible  to  the 
rational  part  of  his  creatures. 

There  is,  in  truth,  a  vitiated  appetite  in  our  nature  for  mys- 
tery and  terror ;  we  are  disappointed  by  simplicity ;  we  nau- 
seate that  which  is  common,  and  despise  every  thing  which 
we  comprehend;  the  languid  mind  must  gaze  at  something 
in  the  distant  ground,  half  visible,  half  in  shade;  an  object 
half  pleasing,  half  terrible,  full  of  promise,  and  full-  of  threat ; 
lovely  and  hateful;  incongruous  and  impossible.  We  are  so 
desirous  of  involving  religion  in  mystery,  that  we  are  dis- 
pleased at  finding  it  so  clear  in  its  nature,  and  so  definite  in 


280  ON  TRUE  RELIGION. 

its  object ;  we  require  a  more  splended  and  magnificent  ser- 
vitude ;  we  despise  the  waters  of  Israel,  and  pant  for  Tabana, 
and  Farfar,  and  the  mighty  rivers  of  Damascus. — But  I  may- 
ask  with  the  Prophet,  if  God  had  bid  you  do  some  great  thing, 
would  you  not  have  done  it  ?  How  much  the  rather  then, 
when  he  sayeth  unto  you,  have  mercy  and  be  clean ;  how 
much  the  rather  then,  when  he  sayeth  unto  you,  comfort  the 
fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  your- 
selves unspotted  from  the  world. 

In  our  religious  progress,  we  are  menaced  by  two  opposite 
evils, — indifference,  and  fanaticism,— which,  like  all  contrary 
excesses  reciprocally  generate  each  other;  the  horror  of  in- 
difference inflames  ardour ;  and  disgust  at  extravagance  in- 
creases indifference ;  of  the  danger  of  the  former,  I  hope  I 
think  as  seriously  as  any  minister  of  the  Gospel  can  do ;  and 
I  have  on  other  occasions,  in  the  discharge  of  my  duty,  in- 
sisted upon  it,  as  well  as  I  was  able  ;— that  I  have  not  unduly 
magnified  the  latter,  a  very  slight  acquaintance  with  the  his- 
tory of  religion  will  sufficiently  evince. 

To  this  head  of  intemperate  enthusiasm  is  to  be  referred 
that  eager  reception  which  the  interpretation  of  prophecies 
has,  of  late  days,  experienced  among  us.— There  are  some 
prophecies  so  plain  that  they  cannot  be  mistaken,  and  so  im- 
portant, that  they  have  very  properly  been  insisted  upon,  as 
the  strongest  proofs  of  our  religion;  but  the  endless  attempt 
at  fresh  interpretation  and  the  desire  to  apply  passages  from 
the  Prophets  to  the  political  events  of  the  present  times,  should 
surely  be  received  with  the  greatest  caution ;  because  it  is  a 
subject  above  all  others,  in  which  the  passions  of  weak,  timid 
people  may  betray  their  judgment,  and  because  it  is  notorious 
to  common  sense,  that  to  support  such  interpretation,  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Prophets  has  been  distorted  in  the  most  violent 
and  uncandid  manner.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  blame  the  attempt 
at  farther  explanation  altogether ;  I  only  contend,  that  it  is  an 
attempt  which  should  be  made  with  the  greatest  humility  and 
received  with  the  greatest  caution  ;  at  the  same  time,  I  have 
no  scruple  to  say,  that  this  practice  has,  of  late  years,  been 
carried  to  the  most  blameable  and  pernicious  excess  ;  predic- 
tions of  the  most  trifling  events  have  been  sought  for,  and  dis- 
covered in  the  Prophets,  and  the  credulity  of  mankind  abused 
in  a  manner  which  has  given  a  fresh  handle  to  infidelity,  and 
cast  unmerited  obloquy  upon  true  rehgion;  true  religion, 
which  is  .always  sure  to  suffer  for  the  errors  and  absurdities 


ON  TRtJE  RELIGION. 


^^1 


which  the  superstitious  ignorance  of  man  is  perpetually  fos- 
tering upon  it. 

As  true  religion  consists  neither  in  devotion  alone,  nor  in 
fanaticism  at  all,  it  does  not  consist  any  more  in  theology, 
which  we  are  apt  to  confound  with  it ;  the  danger  is  that  we 
mistake  the  means  and  instruments  by  which  we  are  to 
make  ourselves  religious,  for  religion  itself;  theology  and 
prayer  are  instruments  of  the  highest  importance  to  the  fur- 
therance of  true  religion,  but  they  are  still  different  from  re- 
ligion itself.  The  ambiguities  consequent  upon  translation, 
the  inevitable  difficulties  of  words  considered  as  a  vehicle  of 
thought,  the  proceedings  of  the  Christian  church,  down  to  this 
period,  the  evidence  in  favour  of  Christianity,  the  questions 
which  must  arise  from  the  application  of  a  general  rule  to 
particular  cases,  have  all  made  it  necessary,  that  the  Scrip- 
tures should  be  profoundly  and  accurately  studied,  and  have 
given  birth  to  the  science  of  theology;  but  Almighty  God  in 
revealing  to  us  his  Gospel,  would  have  defeated  his  own  be- 
nevolent purpose,  if  everything  which  that  Gospel  contains, 
might  not  be  apprehended  without  laborious  and  critical  study. 
Upon  the  more  important  and  practical  parts  of  Christianity^ 
there  has  been  little  or  no  controversy ;  every  body  knows 
that  mercy,  that  charity,  that  meekness,  that  obedience  to  the 
higher  powers,  that  every  fundamental  principle  of  morals, 
on  which  the  happiness  of  mankind  reposes,  are  taught  in 
the  sacred  writings,  with  a  strength  which  rivets  attention, 
and  a  precision  which  excludes  mistake.  It  is  right  that 
more  speculative  questions  should  be  agitated  by  those  to 
whom  these  matters  are  properly  and  professionally  a  care ; 
but  it  never  could  have  been  the  intention  of  all-wise  Provi- 
dence, that  subjects  difficult  enough  to  exercised  understand- 
ings, should  be  a  necessary  and  indispensable  matter  of 
thought  and  inquiry  for  every  well  disposed  Christian. 

I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  caution  you  against  a  few  of 
those  errors  which  vitiate  our  conceptions  of  true  religion  ; 
and  teach  us  to  sacrifice  the  substance  to  the  phantom  and 
shade  of  piety.  If  any  other  proof  were  wanting  of  the  Di- 
vine origin  of  Christianity,  this  alone  would  be  of  the  highest 
importance  ;  that  it  is  the  onty  religion  which  does  not  de- 
grade our  notions  of  the  Deity,  by  investing  him  with  the 
lowest  of  human  passions.  The  Pagan  sacrificed  his  milk- 
white  heifer,  without  blemish,  cast  frankincense  on  the  flame, 
and  went  forth  justified  before  his  God.     The  Mahomedan 


282  ON  TRUE  RELIGION. 

bathes  in  the  stream,  and  turns  nine  times  towards  holy  Mecca, 
and  is  cleansed  from  all  his  iniquities  : — the  meek  and  patient 
Hindoo  eateth  not  of  that  which  has  life,  and  blesses  his  be- 
loved Ganges,  and  these  things  are  counted  unto  him  for 
righteousness.  The  Christian  must  offer  up  to  God  some 
heart  that  he  hath  lightened,  and  some  spirit  that  he  hath 
made  glad ;  the  prayers  of  sick,  wretched  creatures,  must  go 
up  for  him  to  heaven  ;  he  must  come  to  the  altar,  surrounded 
by  fatherless  children  ;  his  enemies  must  he  prostrate  at  his 
feet,  conquered  by  gentleness,  goodness,  and  forbearance ; 
he  must  give  to  the  reviler,  blessings  for  curses ;  he  must  be 
the  defence  of  those  who  seek  his  destruction  ;  he  must  avert 
wrath  with  lovely,  peaceable  words ;  by  his  wise  discourse, 
and  by  his  fair  honourable  life,  he  must  turn  men  from  their 
sins,  to  the  worship  of  the  Lord  their  God.  This  is  the  piety 
of  a  Christian ;  this  is  the  path  which  leads  to  immortal  life ; 
to  have  a  lively  faith,  to  pray  always  for  blessings  from 
above ;  but  to  remember  in  the  midst  of  our  prayers,  that 
true  religion  and  undefiled  before  God  the  Father  is  this,  to 
visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  affliction ;  and  to  keep 
yourselves  unspotted  from  the  world. 


.^M^^^^ 


SERMON   XLI. 

ON  THE  IMMORTALITY   OF   THE   SOUL; 


But  some  man  will  say,  how  are  the  dead  raised  up  ?  And  with  what  body 
do  they  come  ?  Thou  fool  !  that  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quickened 
except  it  die;  and  that  which  thou  sowest,  thou  sowest  not  that  body 
which  shall  be,  but  bare  grain,  it  may  chance  of  wheat  or  some  other 
grain  ;  but  God  giveth  it  a  body  as  it  hath  pleased  him,— and  to  every 
seed  his  own  body. — First  book  of  Corinthians  xv.  verse  35. 

He  who  looks  at  any  object  of  matter,  can  scarcely  be  said 
to  know  at  what  it  is  he  does  look  if  he  confines  himself  only 
to  its  present  qualities  and  neglects  the  indications  of  its  future 
existence. 

Look  at  the  seed ;  does  it  move  ?  Is  there  in  it  the  sHghtest 
sign  of  life  ?  Could  any  man  conjecture,  previous  to  expe- 
rience, that  it  would  not  always  remain  what  it  now  is  ?  yet, 
of  that  seed  comes  the  green  herb ;  man  gathers  of  it  his 
daily  bread ;  or  if  such  be  its  body,  it  riseth  up  to  be  the 
strength  and  beauty  of  the  forest. 

The  principle  of  change  is  indeed  widely  diffused  over  the 
works  of  Providence  ;  few  things  are  in  that  state  now,  in 
which  they  are  hereafter  to  remain  ;  the  bird  destined  for  the 
air,  sleeps  in  his  shell ;  the  beautiful  insect,  that  is  to  flutter  in 
the  sun,  crawls  in  the  earth  till  the  season  of  his  glory  is  come. 
The  child  that  requires  the  hand  of  a  parent  to  give  him  food, 
may  soon  be  changed  into  a  saint  or  a  sage.  So,  also  (says 
the  great  apostle)  is  it  with  the  soul  of  man ;  this  is  not  its 
resting  place ;  it  was  never  intended  to  remain  here,  and  to 
be  always  as  it  now  is;  it  will  be  changed  as  the  seed  is  changed; 
the  corruptible  will  put  on  incorruption ;  the  mortal  immor- 
tality; the  object  for  which  it  was  created  will  be  made  mani- 
fest ;  at  the  very  moment  that  it  seems  to  perish,  it  is  passing 


284         ON  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

into  an  higher  order  of  creatures  and  getting  hold  of  a  better 
life. 

This  comparison  between  the  outward  world  and  the 
changes  of  the  soul,  set  on  foot  by  the  holy  apostle,  may  per- 
haps be  carried  one  step  farther. 

As  we  are  admonished  by  experience  of  this  propensity  to 
change  in  all  the  objects  we  behold,  we  accustom  ourselves 
to  look  out  with  eagerness  and  attention  for  the  signs  of  these 
changes ;  we  say  of  the  seed,  when  it  begins  to  burst  this 
part  will  become  the  branch,  and  from  hence  the  root  will 
grow ;  we  trace  out  in  the  shell,  the  organs  of  the  perfect 
animal ;  and  we  say  with  certainty,  these  are  preparations  for 
a  future  existence ;  to  this  perishing  seed,  to  this  inanimate 
shell  they  are  useless  ;  but  the  seed  will  grow,  and  the  shell 
will  live ;  these  are  the  signs  in  them  of  a  second  state ;  they 
have  other  appearances  to  put  on,  and  other  objects  to  accom- 
plish, to  which  their  present  being  is  entirely  subordinate  and 
ministerial :  this  also  is  true  of  the  soul  of  man ;  it  does  not 
do  all  here  that  it  was  intended  to  do ;  it  was  never  modeled 
for  this  world  alone ;  there  are  in  it  qualities  utterly  useless 
here,  qualities  which  carry  about  with  them  the  signs  of  pre- 
paration, as  if  that  soul  was  to  undergo  a  great  change,  sur- 
viving the  body,  and  living  for  ever  before  God. 

There  cannot  be  a  more  awful  speculation  than  to  follow 
out  this  train  of  thought,  and  to  endeavour  to  find  what  those 
quahties  of  our  minds  are,  which  appear  to  have  a  reference  to 
some  future  scene  of  existence,  which  by  showing  us  that  we 
are  intended  for  another  and  a  better  world,  add  the  natural 
evidence  for  immortality,  to  that  which  is  derived  from  the 
Christian  revelation. 

First.  It  must  be  observed,  man  in  every  stage  of  society, 
civilized  or  savage,  has  universally  behoved  that  he  is  to  live 
hereafter ;  we  have  no  sooner  become  acquainted  with  the 
opinions  of  any  new  people,  however  barbarous  their  condi- 
tion, however  remote  and  insulated  their  situation,  but  we 
immediately  discover  among  them  this  sacred  notion  of  a 
second  life  ;  discover  it  obscured  by  foolish  inventions,  dis- 
graced by  superstition ;  but  still  discover  it  shining  through 
the  dross  and  betraying  its  excellent  nature.  Why  then  has 
the  Almighty  God,  who  in  all  other  creations  is  acknowledged 
to  do  nothing  in  vain,  who  could  have  pinioned  down  the 
mind  within  any  hmits,  given  it  such  a  range,  that  its  thoughts 
reach  up  to  an  Heaven  where  it  can  never  dwell?  why  is  it 


ON  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.  285 

enabled  to  discover  a  God  if  that  God  is  to  doom  it  to  annihi- 
lation ?  why  has  it  the  power  to  draw  a  never-ending  scene 
of  happiness,  if  it  has  but  a  few  wretched  years  to  Hve.  What 
advantageth  us,  says  the  apostle,  if  the  dead  rise  not  at  all ; 
let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die  ;  but  alas!  the  mind 
of  man  is  not  so  constituted;  the  death  of  to-morrow  ruins  the 
appetite  of  to-day;  the  beast  that  perishes  he  only  is  pleased  to 
the  last,  and  is  never  troubled  with  that  futurity,  by  which  he  is 
never  to  be  blest ;  believing  that  God  exists,  that  God  is  our 
maker,  that  God  is  just,  we  cannot  believe  that  he  has  given 
us  minds  capable  of  forming  the  notion  of  immortality,  but  un- 
worthy of  enjoying  immortality  itself ;  therefore,  this  universal 
belief  in  a  future  state,  is  one  sign  of  change,  one  proof  that 
the  soul  is  not  now  in  its  last  stage  of  being,  that  the  change 
which  it  undergoes,  is  merely  change  and  not  destruction. 

If  we  had  been  destined  for  this  world  alone,  it  is  probable 
we  should  have  been  contented  with  what  this  world  affords  ; 
s  the  excellence  we  saw  and  felt,  would  have  been  the  only 
^  excellence  we  could  conceive  ;  but  now  man  always  imagines 
something  better  than  he  sees ;  no  grandeur,  and  no  beauty 
which  he  beholds,  are  equal  to  the  grandeur  and  the  beauty 
which  he  conceives  ;  something  tells  him  this  is  human,  that 
elsewhere  there  are  fairer  and  better  things  than  these ;  in 
all  times  man  has  dehghted  to  draw  a  natural  and  moral 
world  after  his  own  fancy;  a  land  without  storm  and  tempest; 
a  people  without  violence  and  injustice,  living  in  perpetual 
peace,  and  exercising  unwearied  benevolence.  This  discon- 
tent of  present  things  is  made  a  part  of  man's  nature,  to 
remind  him  that  present  things  are  not  always  to  endure ;  he 
is  swift  to  conceive  better  things,  to  inure  him  to  that  perfec- 
tion, which  must  infinitely  exceed  even  his  imagination ;  if 
man  is  to  live  again,  the  object  of  such  a  provision  is  easy  to 
be  comprehended,  and  worthy  of  Almighty  wisdom  ;  but  why 
is  it  given,  if  all  ends  here  ?  why  are  we  so  keen  to  discern 
the  imperfections  of  this  our  first,  and  last,  and  only  home  ?  a 
being  of  this  world  has  no  need  of  it,  it  is  a  mark  of  futurity, 
the  forerunner  of  another  world,  the  strong  evidence  of  an 
immortal  being. 

To  exist  in  this  world,  seems  to  be  the  only  purpose  for 
which  the  brute  creation  was  intended  ;  they  eat,  and  drink, 
and  perish ;  nor  does  it  appear  that  they  have  any  superflu- 
ous faculties,  any  portion  of  understanding  greater  than  what 
is  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  their  brief  existence ;  if 


^i 


288  ON  TUE  Immortality  of  the  ^otL. 

• 
they  have  lived  a  few  yeats,  and  given  birth  to  other  beings 
like  themseves,  they  appear  to  have  done  all  that  Providence 
ever  intended  them  to  do  ;  if  man,  like  these,  had  only  talents 
to  gather  his  support,  and  defeat  the  hostile  animals  which 
surrounded  him,  no  hope  of  immortality  could  be  gathered 
from  a  condition  like  this ;  man  would  be  of  the  earth,  earthy; 
destined  to  hve  in  this  world,  with  qualities  fitted  for  this 
world,  and,  to  all  appearance,  limited  to  it;  but  in  speaking  of 
the  mind  of  man,  we  forget  and  we  leap  over  all  those  facul- 
ties, which  are  sufficient  for  the  preservation  of  life  ;  we  do 
not  wonder  at  man,  because  he  is  cunning  in  procuring  his 
food,  but  we  are  amazed  with  the  variety,  the  superfluity,  the 
immensity  of  human  talents ;  we  are  astonished  that  he  should 
have  found  his  way  over  the  seas,  and  numbered  the  stars, 
and  called  by  its  name  every  earth,  and  stone,  and  plant,  and 
creeping  reptile,  that  the  Almighty  hath  made ;  we  see  him 
gathered  together  in  great  cities,  guided  by  laws,  disciphned 
by  instruction,  softened  by  fine  arts,  and  sanctified  by  solemn 
worship  :  we  count  over  the  pious  spirit  of  the  world,  the 
beautiful  writers,  the  great  statesmen,  all  who  have  invented 
subtlety,  who  have  thought  deeply,  who  have  executed  wisely, 
all  these  are  proofs  that  we  are  destined  for  a  second  life  ;  it 
is  not  possible  to  believe  that  this  redundant  vigour,  this 
lavish  and  excessive  power  was  given  for  the  mere  gathering 
of  meat  and  drink :  if  the  only  object  is  present  existence, 
such  faculties  are  cruel,  are  misplaced,  are  useless  ;  they  all 
show  us  that  there  is  something  great  awaiting  us,  that  the 
soul  is  now  young  and  infantine,  springing  up  into  a  more 
perfect  life  when  the  body  falls  into  dust. 

Then,  why  is  it  that  there  is  always  a  progress  from  one 
novelty  to  another  ?  why  does  happiness  recede  before  us 
as  we  advance  ?  why  is  man  driven  by  the  present  moment 
to  a  future,  which,  when  it  comes,  still  beckons  him  to  a  fu- 
ture beyond  ?  In  boyhood  it  is  to  be  youth,  in  youth  it  is  to 
be  manhood,  in  manhood  it  is  to  be  old  age ;  but  in  youth 
pleasure  wearies,  in  manhood  power  fatigues,  in  old  age  sad- 
ness and  weakness  oppress, — till  man  is  wearied  out  by  the 
long  delusion,  and  sees  at  last,  if  he  would  reach  that  happi- 
ness he  has  so  long  pursued,  he  must  follow  it  over  the  great 
gulf  across  which  Dives  called  to  Lazarus  for  aid. 

God  would  not  have  so  framed  the  heart  of  man  if  that 
heart  is  perishable  and  mortal ;  it  is  not  one  God  that  has 
made  the  invisible  spirit,  and  another  God  that  has  made  all 


ON  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.  287 

the  objects  we  can  see  and  touch ;  but  one  Omnipotence  and 
one  Omniscience  has  acted  throughout,  in  forming  the  most 
stupendous  mind,  and  in  completing  the  minutest  insect.  If 
this  incessant  change  be  then  the  quahty  of  a  soul  which  is 
to  suffer  death ;  if  our  desires  can  here  find  no  resting  place 
and  are  not  to  exist  anywhere  but  here,  where  is  there  besides 
such  an  inconsistency  in  all  the  other  works  of  God  ?  No 
animal  has  wings  that  is  not  destined  to  fly ;  every  creature 
that  swims  in  the  deep  has  all  the  organs  and  instruments 
necessary  for  that  kind  of  life ;  when  we  look  at  the  courage- 
ous animals,  we  are  well  aware  that  they  must  live  by  their 
courage ;  of  the  timid  we  do  not  doubt  but  that  they  are  to 
owe  their  safety  to  their  circumspection ;  we  always  assign 
to  Providence  a  purpose;  we  cannot  look  upon  a  bodily  organ 
or  witness  a  mental  quality,  without  assigning  to  them  a  par- 
ticular use;  if  the  present  use  is  not  obvious,  the  creature  is 
to  undergo  some  change  that  will  justify  the  work  of  God, 
and  bring  that  organ  or  that  quahty  into  action  ;  this  half-living 
reptile  that  is  now  crawling  on  the  earth,  will  not  end  in  this 
state;  those  rudiments  of  wings  will  expand,  and  he  will  become 
an  inhabitant  of  air ;  thus  we  reason  of  all  nature,  and  thus 
we  should  reason  also  of  the  soul  of  man  ;  this  eternal  change, 
this  sickness  of  present  things,  this  appetite  for  the  future, 
these  are  the  marks  of  the  wings,  and  the  signs  of  the  great 
flight ;  this  is  not  the  world  to  which  they  belong,  but  they 
are  the  instruments  and  the  organs  which  enable  us  to  detach 
ourselves  from  thi^  world,  and  to  spring  up  into  greater  purity 
and  freedom. 

Of  the  other  qualities  of  the  mind,  there  is  no  one  who 
doubts ;  the  connection  they  have  with  this  life  cannot  be 
mistaken ;  resentment  is  given  us  for  protection ;  fear  for 
preservation  ;  hope  for  comfort ;  compassion  for  mutual  aid  ; 
gratitude  for  the  encouragement  of  benevolence, — all  these 
are  present  qualities  ;  some  beautiful,  some  bad,  but  all  cal- 
culated for  the  present  scene  ;  all  bearing  upon  our  immedi- 
ate destiny,  all  connected  with  this  world  ;  but  the  knowledge 
of  God  and  his  attributes,  the  ungratified  notions  of  excellence, 
the  impatience  of  present  things,  the  unwearied  appetite  for 
change ;  the  lavish,  variety  and  splendour  of  the  human 
faculties  ;  all  these  things  are  not  to  be  explained  but  by  be- 
lieving the  soul  to  be  immortal,  or  the  God  that  made  it  to  be 
unjust. 

There  is  one  other,  and  an  almost  universal  passion  in 


288  ON  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

human  nature,  which  appears  to  be  planted  in  us  to  excite 
and  to  cherish,  the  feeHng  of  the  immortaHty  of  the  soul ;  the 
desire  of  being  remembered  and  honoured  after  death ;  or,  as 
it  is  commonly  denominated,  the  love  of  posthumous  fame. — 
All  men  feel  it ;  it  would  overwhelm  any  of  us  here  present 
with  the  deepest  affliction  to  believe  that  we  were  utterly 
forgotten  when  we  ceased  to  live ;  after  rehgion  the  great 
soother  and  comforter  in  death  is,  to  beheve  that  we  shall 
survive  in  the  memory  of  those  whom  we  leave  behind.  If 
this  passion  was  a  passion  only  of  the  rich  and  great,  it  might 
proceed  from  a  reluctance  to  quit  those  enjoyments  which 
are  said  by  the  son  of  Sirach  to  make  death  so  terrible ;  but 
all  men  have  it ;  the  poor  wish  to  live  in  the  memory  of  the 
poor  ;  the  wretched  to  be  remembered  even  by  the  wretched ; 
anything  but  to  be  forgotten  and  blotted  out,  than  which  there 
is  nothing  more  awful  to  the  mind  of  man  ;  for  what  purpose 
is  it  then,  that  our  wishes  shoot  out  beyond  our  endurance, 
and  that  we  have  such  an  irresistible  tendency  to  paint  our- 
selves as  conscious  of  honour  or  of  shame  after  the  outward 
and  visible  man  has  perished  away  ?  This  universal  feeling . 
^1  was  not  given  in  mockery  and  derison  of  mankind ;  he  is , 
surely  not  allowed  for  the  sport  of  some  higher  order  of 
beings,  to  hope  so  strongly  that  which  is  impossible;  this^ 
peculiarity  of  his  nature  is  not  accidental;  it  was  not  over-, 
looked  in  the  structure  of  his  mind,  but  it  was  placed  there 
with  design,  and  placed  there  with  benevolence  ;  with  design, 
because  nothing  in  this  world  is  done  without  design ;  with  be- 
nevolence, because  man  wanted  this  glimpse  of  another  life  for 
his  happiness,  and  he  wanted  it  for  his  elevation  to  give  him 
courage  under  all  the  evils  of  the  world,  and  to  whisper  into 
his  inward  soul  that  he  only  is  unchangable  amid  vicissitude, 
and  imperishable  amid  decay. 

It  is  a  science  not  unworthy  of  time  and  attention  to  find 
out  what  the  qualities  of  our  minds  are,  and  for  what  pur- 
poses they  were  intended ;  but  it  is  impossible  in  the  prose- 
cution of  this  study,  not  to  perceive  that  the  mind  with  all  its 
worldly  attributes,  has  some  qualities  entirely  destined  for 
futurity ;  arranged  for  a  totally  separate  order  of  things  ;  doing 
within  us  the  service  of  Heaven,  and  watching  carefully  over 
the  ark  of  God  which  every  man  carries  in  his  heart ;  there- 
fore, do  not  answer  me  with  saying  all  this  perishes  to  the , 
eye,  it  seems  as  if  the  soul  was  dead ;  I  reply  with  the  holy 
apostle,  it  is  the  great  law  of  nature,  that  which  thou  sowest 


ON  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.         289 

is  not  quickened  except  it  die ;  and  that  which  thou  sowest, 
thou  sowest  not  that  hody  which  shall  he,  but  God  giveth  it 
a  body  as  it  hath  pleased  him,  and  to  every  seed  its  own 
body. 

The  season  is  now  come  when  those  changes  to  which  the 
apostle  alludes  begin  to  take  place ;  the  sower  has  deposited 
the  seed  in  the  ground,  and  to  the  outward  eye  it  seems  to 
perish;  yet,  ere  it  be  long,  it  will  be  green  with  life,  and  God 
will  give  to  every  seed  the  body  which  hath  pleased  him ; 
let  it  be  our  care  then,  to  derive  from  the  changes  of  nature, 
a  lesson  of  religious  wisdom,  and  beholding  the  decay  and 
the  resurrection  of  the  outward  world,  to  remember  before  it 
is  too  late,  that  we  also  must  die  and  rise  again. 


m 


SEEMON   XLII. 

ON    THE    TLEASURES    OF    OLD 
AGE. 


Though  the  outward  man  perish,  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day. 
2d  Book  of  Corinthians  iv.  verse  14. 

There  seems  to  be,  upon  a  superficial  view  of  human  life, 
a  vast  inequality  in  the  advantages  enjoyed  at  its  different 
periods  ;  all  its  joys  and  pleasures  appear  to  be  crowded  into 
the  season  of  youth,  and  its  last  scenes  to  be  given  up  to  pain, 
and  to  decay ;  to  be  marked  only  by  the  dissolution  of  the 
body,  and  the  gloom  of  the  mind.  Sad,  forsaken,  unhappy, 
are  the  epithets  appropriated  to  old  age ;  to  grow  old  stands 
foremost  upon  the  catalogue  of  human  miseries,  and  sin  itself 
seems  less  terrible  than  that  outward  ruin  which  brings  man 
down  to  his  native  dust. 

To  correct,  if  I  am  able,  these  mistaken  views,  and  to  strive 
against  this  mournful  and  degrading  impression,  I  have  cited 
these  words  of  the  great  apostle ;  they  show  us  that  the  real 
glory  may  be  greatest,  when  the  visible  glory  is  no  more ; 
that  death  and  ruin  may  be  without,  and  immortality  within ; 
that,  though  the  outward  man  perish,  the  inward  man  may 
be  renewed  day  by  day. 

I  will  endeavour  to  explain  what  is  meant  by  this  renewal 
of  the  inward  man  by  stating  what  those  feehngs  of  the  mind 
are,  which  St.  Paul  sets  up  in  compensation  of  bodily  decay, 
and  in  what  sense  we  may  be  said  to  be  daily  renewed,  when 
it  is  but  too  evident  to  the  eye,  that  we  are  dwindling  away  to 
another  state  of  existence.  The  principal  object  I  have  in 
view  in  this  discourse,  is  to  prove  that  Providence  has  been 
bounteous  to  every  period  of  life;  that  the  pleasures  of  age 
are  greater,  and  the  pains  less,  than  we  commonly  suppose 


ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  OLD  AGE.  291 

them  to  be ;  and  that,  when  old  age  is  a  state  of  affliction  and 
despair,  it  is  not  rendered  so  by  a  decaying  body,  but  by  a 
sinful  mind. 

By  the  pleasures  of  old  age  are  understood,  of  course,  those 
pleasures  which  may  be  attained  by  exertion  ;  for  gratuitous 
happiness  is  never  conceded  to  man  at  any  period  of  life  ;  but 
in  youth,  in  manhood,  in  old  age  is  alike,  and  alone  gained 
by  doing  well,  and  by  faith  in  Christ. 

The  first  renewal  of  the  inward  man,  the  restoration  of  our 
nature  to  what  it  was  before  its  original  transgression,  is  its 
victory  over  the  passions  of  youth.  The  eye  fails,  the  hand 
trembles,  and  the  knee  is  unstrung  ;  but  the  happiness  of  man 
does  not  depend  only  on  the  keenness  of  his  sight,  and  the 
vigour  of  his  grasp ;  it  is  not  all  health  and  strength ;  there 
is  something  Avhich  palsy  cannot  reach,  nor  fever  burn,  nor 
agony  impair.  The  man  whom  you  pity  for  his  weakness, 
would  be  loath  perhaps,  to  change  his  infirmities  for  your 
passions  ;  he  would  not  be  as  young  as  you,  to  be  disturbed 
as  you;  he  would  not  come  again  under  the  bondage  of  sin, 
and  be  the  slave  of  passion  for  all  the  happiness  that  youth, 
and  beauty,  and  strength  could  give ;  he  has  calmed  every 
unholy  tumult ;  and  put  to  rest  every  sinful  emotion ;  he 
wishes  only  that  which  is  righteous  ;  he  thinks  only  that 
which  is  good;  he  feels  by  day  and  by  night  a  calm  support- 
ing confidence  in  God.  Youth  may  flee  away  unheeded,  if 
old  age  bring  with  it  such  blessings  as  these.  The  outward 
man  may  perish,  when  the  inward  man  is  thus  renewed  day 
by  day. 

The  pleasures  of  youth  all  fall  under  the  cognizance  of  the 
senses  ;  gayety  is  heard,  and  brilliancy  is  seen  ;  but  the  pas- 
sionless tranquillity  of  old  age  is  unnoticed  by  all  but  those 
whom  it  blesses ;  we  call  it  unhappy  because  it  has  no  clamor- 
ous, and  no  visible  joy ;  forgetting  that  the  emanation  of 
God's  grace,  the  feeling  of  heaven,  the  strong  hope  of  immor- 
tality, are  themselves  deep  and  penetrating  joys,  which  oc- 
cupy the  whole  man,  and  keep  his  soul  in  dignity  and  peace. 

Nor  is  this  exemption  from  the  tumults  of  sense,  and  the 
agitations  of  sin,  to  be  judged  of,  as  if  it  were  original  apathy  ; 
but  it  is  a  tranquillity  of  which  old  age  can  fully  ascertain 
the  value,  from  having  experienced  the  contrary  state.  He, 
whose  decaying  health  is  the  only  circumstance  you  notice, 
has  learnt  in  a  long  life  to  estimate  aright  the  happiness  of 
age ;  he  has  learnt  that  your  ideas  of  pleasure  are  not  the 


292  ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  OLD  AGE. 

true  ideas  of  pleasure  ;  he  once  obeyed  feelings  as  impetuous 
as  yours  ;  he  was  the  slave  of  anger,  of  jealousy,  of  pleasure, 
as  you  are  at  this  day.  He  has  now  conquered  the  passions 
which  he  once  served ;  and  pity  him  as  you  may,  he  feels 
that  the  latter  days  of  his  life  are  better  than  the  first ;  that  it 
is  more  pleasant  to  walk  with  God  in  old  age,  than  to  sin  in 
all  the  flower  and  freshness  of  youth. 

The  memory  of  a  well  spent  Hfe  is  a  pleasure  which  may 
always  be  reserved  for  old  age,  and  can  be  enjoyed  by  old 
age  alone ;  in  manhood  the  race  is  only  half  run,  the  firmest 
virtue  may  give  way,  and  that  fame  may  set  in  clouds  which 
rose  in  beauty,  and  shone  with  meridian  splendour.  But  in 
old  age  the  hand  is  upon  the  goal,  the  destined  spot  is  reached ; 
nothing  more  is  to  come,  and  what  is  past  the  malice  of  fortune 
cannot  affect.  Nor  is  this  pleasure  peculiar  to  old  age,  by 
any  means  confined  to  men  of  illustrious  talent  and  exalted 
station ;  the  consciousness  of  integrity  and  honesty  is  as 
sweet  as  the  remembrance  of  the  brightest  actions ;  the  plea- 
sant feeling,  the  true  delight  is  to  know  when  the  part  is 
finished,  that  the  part  has  been  acted  aright,  that  however  in- 
considerable our  best  exertions  may  be,  they  have  still  been 
made;  that  we  have  a  right  to  challenge  the  approbation  of 
men,  and  to  ask  for  some  little  portion  of  the  mercy  of  God. 

The  aged,  in  fact  enjoy  some  of  the  privileges  of  the  dead; 
they  experience  that  justice,  which  those  who  are  actively  en- 
gaged on  the  theatre  of  the  world  so  seldom  receive  ;  envy  for 
them  is  dumb,  the  worst  passions  of  the  human  heart  are 
softened  by  the  signs  of  decaying  nature,  and  men  begin  to 
love  that  merit  which  they  are  so  soon  to  enjoy  no  more. 

The  respect  which  an  old  man  experiences,  who  has  quitted 
the  world  with  honour,  is  sincere  and  affecting;  he  has  been 
well  tried,  and  the  degree  of  his  virtues  fairly  established  ;  he 
is  now  no  man's  rival,  and  all  are  left  freely  to  indulge  in  the 
admiration  of  excellence  ;  a  man  thus  far  gone  in  existence, 
does  not  convert  the  homage  of  his  fellow-creatures  into 
food  for  vanity,  but  takes  it  deeply  to  his  heart  as  a  probable 
evidence  that  he  has  discharged  his  duties  well,  and  that  at 
the  last  hour,  he  may  find  some  favour  with  his  God.  In  this 
manner  a  good  old  man  learns  from  the  praises  of  the  world 
what  he  has  been ;  and  the  young,  inflamed  by  the  sight  of 
living  excellence,  love  virtue  and  steadily  pursue  it. 

There  remain  for  an  old  man  the  pleasures  of  knowledge, 
the  result  of  all  that  he  has  gathered  in  a  long  and  laborious 


ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  OLD  AGE.  293 

life,  and  the  liberal  communication  of  that  knowledge  to  others ; 
wisdom  and  knowledge  are  the  attributes  of  age ;  and  if  the 
young  bow  to  the  symbol  of  declining  life,  it  is  in  a  great 
measure  because  they  regard  them  also  as  the  symbols  of  a 
long-disciplined  and  wide-inquiring  mind. 

There  remains  to  old  age,  to  behold  children  acting  an 
honest  and  conspicuous  part  in  the  world ;  carrying  into  ac- 
tion those  sound  and  moderate  principles,  which  it  has  been 
the  object  of  parental  care  to  inculcate ;  and  repaying  to  the 
last  days  of  the  aged  that  kindness  which  guided  their  infant 
life.  Youth  has  its  glories  and  pleasures,  but  they  are  not 
the  saddest  days  of  human  life,  when  a  man  wastes  gradually 
away,  in  the  midst  of  his  numerous  and  happy  children ; 
perishing,  hke  the  patriarch,  in  a  good  old  age,  and  blessing 
his  sons,  the  strength  and  hope  of  Israel. 

But  this  it  is,  for  which  we  deem  old  age  miserable  ;  that 
the  pleasures  of  old  age  are  not  our  pleasures  :  that  the  old 
man  cries  out  with  Bazillai,  "  How  long  have  I  to  live  that  I 
should  go  up  with  the  King  to  Jerusalem  ?  I  am  this  day 
four-score  years  old ;  can  I  discern  between  good  and  evil : 
can  thy  servant  taste  what  I  eat  ?  and  what  I  drink  ?  Can  I 
hear  any  more  the  voice  of  singing  men,  and  singing  women  ? 
Let  thy  servant,  I  pray  thee,  turn  back,  that  I  may  die  in 
mine  own  city,  and  be  buried  in  the  grave  of  my  father,  and 
of  my  mother  ?"  It  is  this,  the  tasteless  meats,  the  deafness 
to  the  singing  man  and  the  singing  woman,  the  apathy  to 
common  pleasures,  for  which  old  age  is  pitied  and  deplored. 
But  this  is  God's  mercy,  it  is  not  his  vengeance ;  he  deadens 
the  keenness  of  our  bodily  senses  only  to  guide  us  to  immor- 
tality; we  are  disgusted  with  the  pleasures  of  youth ;  we  de- 
ride the  objects  of  manly  ambition  ;  we  are  wearied  with  one 
worldly  trifle  or  another,  that  our  thoughts  may  centre  at  last 
in  God ;  if  I  saw  old  age  still  hovering  after  the  amusements 
of  youth,  I  should  indeed  pity  it,  but  this  oblivion  of  our  trifles, 
is  the  genuine  sign  that  the  great  change  is  coming.  This 
loathing  of  the  world  shows  us,  that  the  renewal  of  the  inward 
man  has  begun;  that  the  first  state  will  soon  end;  that  the 
wings  are  now  forming  for  the  last  and  great  flight ;  and  that 
we  are  casting  off"  the  appetites  and  passions  of  this  world, 
only  because  we  are  about  for  ever  to  abandon  it. 

Another  evil  that  our  imaginations  are  apt  to  connect  with 
old  age,  is  pain ;  but  it  is  not  the  natural  and  inevitable  con- 
dition of  human  life,  that  it  should  close  in  pain  ;  a  youth  of 

25* 


294  ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  OLD  AGE. 

intemperance,  is  crowned  with  an  old  age  of  bodily  suffering-; 
there  is  no  wretchedness  of  mind  or  body,  which  we  may  not 
prepare  for  old  age  :  but  the  accidental  consequences  of  our 
sins,  are  not  to  be  considered  as  the  regular  conditions  of  our 
nature  ;  there  is  a  gradual  bowing  down  to  the  grave  ;  a 
gentle  departure  from  this  hfe  ;  a  peaceful  separation  of  the 
soul  from  the  body ;  which  is  the  real  destiny  of  man,  when 
he  has  lead  that  hfe  which  his  Almighty  Creator  intended 
him  to  lead. 

In  fact,  the  old  age  which  has  raised  aU  this  terror,  is  the 
old  age  of  sin,  not  the  old  age  of  piety  ;  it  is  the  spectacle  of 
young  and  ungoverned  passions,  in  a  perishing  body  ;  of  a 
man  giving  up  the  world  by  his  trembling  limbs,  giving  it  up 
by  his  wasting  strength,  and  cHnging  to  it  with  all  the  appe- 
tites of  his  heart ;  a  man  marked  deeply  by  time,  and  out- 
wardly fitted  for  Heaven,  within  all  preparations  for  this  life, 
and  with  thoughts  busied  about  the  mortal  pleasures  of  sin ; 
to  such  a  man,  old  age  is  indeed  terrible,  for  it  is  a  mark  of 
the  coming  vengeance  of  God,  the  pains  and  evils  of  the 
body  are  to  him  signs  that  his  eternal  punishment  is  near  at 
hand ;  that  he  is  standing  in  the  threshold  to  the  place  of 
torment.  I  am  not  endeavouring  to  prove  that  this  old  age  is 
not  terrible.  It  is,  indeed,  the  greatest  of  human  terrors  ;  and 
though  the  threescore  and  ten  years  may  first  pass  away,  yet 
the  knowledge  that  it  must  come  at  last,  shoots  across  the 
horizon  of  life,  and  mingles  the  terror  of  God  with  the  early 
pleasures  of  youth. 

If  it  is  the  mere  contiguity  to  death,  which  makes  old  age 
so  terrible,  find  out,  if  you  can,  the  man  who  would  spend 
his  hfe  over  again.  If  your  life  has  not  been  notoriously 
wicked,  so  that  death  becomes  to  you  the  greatest  of  all  evils, 
put  this  question  to  your  own  heart.  You  shall  be  replaced 
in  earliest  infancy,  you  shall  enjoy  all  the  happiness  which 
is  said  to  be  the  privilege  of  that  favoured  period  ;  you  shall 
re-taste  again,  all  the  tumultuous  pleasures  of  youth  ;  you 
shall  play  over  again  the  game  of  ambition.  If  all  this  were 
offered,  all  this  would  be  rejected  ;  your  disposition  would  be, 
to  go  on  with  the  portion  of  life  which  remained ;  to  pass 
over  to  something  you  did  not  know,  in  the  hope  of  finding  it 
better  ;  not  to  return  to  that,  with  the  value  of  which  you 
were  already  acquainted.  Why  then  is  the  proximity  to 
death  so  terrible,  if  the  possession  of  life  is  so  little  valuable  ? 
Why  fear  to  die,  if  we  do  not  wish  to  five  ?     Death  viewed 


ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  OLD  AGE.  295 

at  a  distance  by  one  unprepared  for  it,  from  having  lived  long, 
is  terrible  ;  but  the  natural  feeling  of  the  mind,  in  extreme  old 
age,  is  to  wish  for  death ;  to  ask  it  of  God  as  a  boon,  to  speak 
of  it  as  a  release,  and  to  ardently  desire  what,  in  the  begin- 
ning of  life,  is  considered  as  the  greatest  of  all  evils.  "  As 
the  hart  panteth  for  the  water  brooks, — even  so  longeth  my 
soul  for  thee,  oh  God." 

It  is  in  truth,  this  very  proximity  to  death,  which  in  a 
rightly-constituted  and  Christian  mind,  gives  sometimes  to  old 
age  a  superiority  over  all  human  conditions,  because  it  brings 
with  it  a  feehng  which  we  find  to  be  that  which  we  have 
been  seeking  for  throughout  the  whole  of  existence.  The 
feeling  which  this  near  approach  to  God  inspires,  is  that 
perfect  happiness  which  I  sought  for,  in  pleasure,  in  power,  in 
riches,  in  earthly  affections,  in  meditation,  and  in  knowledge. 
But  there  was  bitterness  in  my  pleasure, — power,  and  wealth 
became  familiar  to  me ;  in  my  earthly  affections  I  was 
deceived ;  my  knowledge  was  pain  and  doubt.  I  have 
found,  in  my  old  age,  an  happiness  which  fills  my  heart,  and 
satisfies  my  reason ;  I  see,  now,  why  all  the  pleasures  of  the 
earth  have  palled  upon  me,  and  the  lawful  object  for  which 
my  desires  were  reserved.  Every  remembrance  of  my 
decaying  body  brings  me  nearer  to  God  ;  every  earthly  wish 
is  extinguished  ;  every  injury  forgiven  ;  every  passion  sleeps: 
as  the  outward  man  perishes,  the  inward  man  lives  in  Christ, 
and  is  renewed  day  by  day. 


^t^^m^-i^^mm^m^'^-^^':- 


SERMON    XLIII. 

ON  THE  EFFECTS  WHICH  THE  TUMUL- 
TUOUS LIFE,  PAST  IN  GREAT  CITIES, 
PRODUCES  UPON  THE  MORAL  AND 
RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER. 


And  Jesus  went  out,  and  departed  into  a  solitary  place,  and  there  prayed. — 
MaHK  I.  VERSE  35. 

There  are  many  passages  in  the  New  Testament,  which 
evince  the  love  of  solitude  to  have  been  a  feeling  very  fre- 
quent in  the  mind  of  our  Saviour  ;  his  business  was  with  the 
world,  but  it  pleased  him  to  retire  from  it ;  and  upon  the  shore 
of  the  sea,  upon  the  mountain,  in  the  wilderness,  surrounded 
by  the  works  of  God,  to  restore,  and  sanctify  his  nature  with 
prayer.  What  Jesus  did,  we  ought  to  do  also  ;  to  retire  for 
the  purposes  of  religion  ;  often  to  quit  the  world,  that  we  may 
acquaint  ourselves  with  God,  and  learn  what  the  state  of  that 
soul  is,  upon  which  everlasting  joy  and  sorrow  depend. 

As  it  falls  to  my  lot  to  address  th^se  whose  lives  are  past 
in  this  greatest  of  cities,  the  most  stupendous  collection  of 
civihzed  men  that  the  earth  has  ever  contained,  or  the  mind 
contemplated,  under  such  circumstances,  I  have  thought  it 
right  to  expatiate  upon  the  duty  of  occasional  solitude,  and  to 
state  those  effects,  which  the  habits  of  great  cities  must 
necessarily  produce  upon  the  moral  and  religious  character. 
It  is  right  to  show  men,  that  this  never-ending,  uninterrupted 
commerce  with  the  world,  darkens  the  evangelical  light ; 
erases  the  name  of  God ;  stifles  the  breath  of  prayer  ;  closes 
the  hand  of  charity  ;  degrades  the  aspiring  look  of  man,  and 
fixes  it  upon  the  earth. 

Nothing  can  be  farther  from  my  intention,  than  to  praise, 


ON  THE  EFFECT  WHICH  A  LIFE,  <Sx3.  297 

or  recommend  a  life  of  solitude,  which  is,  perhaps,  rather 
more  injurious  than  a  life  of  uninterrupted  society.  I  speak 
only  of  occasional  retirement,  and  contend  only  against 
incessant  commerce  with  the  world ;  that  those  who  can 
escape  from  a  life  of  tumult  may  do  it,  and  those  who  can- 
not, by  knowing,  and  fearing  them,  may  guard  against  its  ill 
effects. 

It  happens  in  great  cities  that  men  are  too  busy  to  be  reli- 
gious ;  whatever  regulates  the  fate  of  empires,  promotes  the 
public  happiness,  or  enlarges  the  boundaries  of  knowledge, 
originates  in  great  cities;  there  it  is  best  discussed,  and  most 
maturely  perfected.  Whatever  is  wonderful  in  nature,  or 
curious  in  art,  whatever  human  kind  has  of  wit,  o*  wisdom, 
of  eloquence,  beauty  or  genius,  is  crowded  into  great  cities  ; 
all  the  marvels,  scattered  elsewhere  sparingly  over  the  face 
of  the  earth,  are  there  collected  into  a  single  point;  every  fasci- 
nation is  spread  out  for  the  senses ;  not  to  sin  is  difficult ;  not 
to  trifle  impossible ;  these,  then,  are  the  reasons  why  the  soli- 
tary place  of  prayer  is  valuable;  why  it  is  necessary  to  breathe, 
to  pause,  to  be  silent ;  to  remember  that  there  is  a  day  of 
judgment,  and  an  hour  of  death. 

It  is  not  favourable  to  religious  feeling  to  hear  only  of  the 
actions  and  interference  of  men,  and  to  behold  nothing  but 
what  human  ingenuity  has  completed.  There  is  an  image  of 
God's  greatness,  impressed  upon  the  outward  face  of  nature, 
which  makes  us  all  pious,  and  breathes  into  our  hearts  a 
purifying  and  wholesome  fear.  Perhaps  God  so  constructed 
the  outward  world,  as  to  remind  man  of  his  existence  and  of 
his  power ;  it  is  not  in  vain  that  the  hills  are  high,  the  streams 
rapid,  and  the  forests  deep  ;  they  touch  the  sensual  heart  of 
man,  and  rouse  his  torpid  understanding  to  discover  who  made 
these  wonders  and  who  rules  them.  The  very  rocks  are  his 
scripture  ;  and  the  mountains  teaching  him,  appal  him  with 
the  power  of  God.  These  things  have  neither  speech  nor 
language,  but  their  voices  are  heard  among  men.  Their 
sound  is  gone  out  unto  all  lands,  and  their  words  unto  the 
ends  of  the  world. 

Nor  is  the  spectacle  of  active  nature  less  favourable  to  the 
cultivation  of  rehgious  feeling  than  the  contemplation  of  its 
passive  scenes;  every  bird  and  every  animal  has  its  habits  of 
life  independent  of  man ;  it  has  a  sagacity  which  man  never 
taught ;  and  propensities  which  man  could  not  inspire.  The 
growth  of  all  the  plants,  and  fruits  of  the  earth,  depend  upon 
laws,  over  which  man  has  no  control ;  out  of  great  cities, 


298  ON  THE  EFFECT  WHICH  A  LIFE,  PAST  IN  GREAT 

there  is  everywhere  around  and  about  us,  a  vast  system  going 
on  utterly  independent  of  human  wisdom  and  human  inter- 
ference ;  and  man  learns  there  the  great  lesson  of  his  imbe- 
ciUty  and  dependence  ;  not  by  that  reflection,  to  which  supe- 
rior minds  alone  can  attain,  but  by  those  daily  impressions 
upon  his  senses,  which  make  the  lesson  more  universal  and 
more  certain.  But  here  everything  is  man  and  man  alone  ; 
kings  and  senates  command  us  ;  we  talk  of  their  decrees  and 
look  up  to  their  pleasure ;  they  seem  to  move  and  govern  all, 
and  to  be  the  providence  of  cities ;  in  this  seat  of  govern- 
ment, placed  under  the  shadow  of  those  who  make  the  laws, 
we  do  not  render  unto  Csesar  the  things  which  are  Caesar's, 
and  unto  God  the  things  which  are  God's,  but  God  is  forgotten 
and  Csesar  is  supreme;  all  is  human  policy,  human  foresight, 
human  power  ;  nothing  reminds  us  of  invisible  dominion, 
and  concealed  Omnipotence ;  we  do  nothing  but  what  man 
bids  ;  we  see  nothing  but  what  man  creates  ;  we  mingle  with 
nothing  but  what  man  commands  ;  it  is  all  earth  and  no 
heaven. 

The  weakness  and  helplessness  of  man,  is  one  cause  of  his 
dependence  upon  a  being  greater  and  wiser  than  himself.  It 
is  not,  I  am  afraid,  in  the  season  of  youth  and  health,  and  in 
the  possession  of  affluence,  that  we  are  most  mindful  of  our 
religious  duties  ;  the  lesson  which  all  ought  to  learn  from 
principle,  is  often  taught  by  poverty,  sickness,  and  old  age, 
and  we  are  then  most  willing  to  rest  upon  a  superior  power; 
when  we  learn  from  experience  the  moral  and  physical  evils 
by  which  we  are  surrounded,  and  the  confined  powers  of  our 
nature  by  which  those  evils  are  to  be  repelled.  This  lesson, 
however,  is  more  slowly  learnt  in  great  cities,  than  elsewhere, 
because  there  the  strongest  combination  is  formed  against  the 
accidents  of  life.  It  is  there  that  every  evil,  which  can  ha- 
rass humanity,  is  guarded  against  by  the  most  consummate 
experience,  and  rectified  with  the  most  perfect  skill ;  what- 
ever man  has  discovered  to  better  his  condition,  is  there  to  be 
found ;  and  the  whole  force  of  human  genius  called  to  the  aid 
of  each  individual,  gradually  diminishes  that  conviction  of 
human  imbeciHty  which  is  one  cause  of  religious  feeling. 

Where  the  society  in  which  we  move,  is  not  of  a  magni- 
tude that  is  enormous,  a  very  wholesome  restraint  is  produced 
by  public  opinion  ;  every  action  of  each  individual  is  known  ; 
and  the  fear  of  disgrace  and  reprehension  comes  in  aid  of  the 
dictates  of  religion.  But  in  the  midst  of  such  multitudes  as 
these,  life  would  not  suffice  for  such  minuteness  of  inquisi- 


CITIES,  PRODUCES  ON  THE  RELIGIOUS  CHARACTER.        299 

tion  ;  every  man  walks  in  darkness  ;  and  his  actions  are  as 
invisible  to  his  fellow-creatures  as  if  his  days  were  past  in 
the  bosom  of  the  desert.  There  is  little  question  here  of 
good  and  evil,  of  virtue  and  vice  ;  whatever  amuses  is  virtue, 
whatever  tires  is  vice  ;  in  a  moderate  state  of  society,  where 
full  light  is  thrown  upon  every  man's  life,  the  good  father, 
the  just  neighbour,  the  steady  and  affectionate  friend,  take 
the  rank  in  public  estimation,  to  which  their  excellent  quali- 
ties entitle  them ;  prudence,  veracity,  charity ;  a  class  of  vir- 
tues are  required  and  honoured,  which,  though  unimportant 
to  a  superficial  intercourse,  are  indispensable  to  long  and 
intimate  communication  ;  so  that  many  virtues  are  thus  learnt 
from  a  regard  to  character,  which  are  afterwards  preserved 
from  the  love  of  God ;  enhghtened  by  his  holy  Gospel,  and 
confirmed  by  his  grace  ;  but  so  light  and  superficial  are  the 
relations  among  human  creatures  in  great  cities,  so  easily 
are  the  connections  of  society  created  and  dissolved ;  and  so 
numerous  are  those  connections  themselves,  that  you  ask 
only  for  something  that  pleases  for  the  moment ;  for  birth,  for 
wealth,  for  manner,  for  gayety,  for  the  qualities  and  virtues 
of  an  hour ;  compatible,  and  often  coexisting  with  every  sin, 
abhorrent  from  the  law  of  God  and  injurious  to  the  happiness 
of  man.  Therefore,  here  are  reasons  why  we  should  go  into 
solitary  places,  and  pray ;  because  in  the  tumult  of  life,  the 
man  who  can  please  for  the  passing  hour,  is  better  and  greater 
than  him  who  has  difficult  and  unsplendid  virtues  ;  because 
goodness  is  not  known,  is  not  asked  for,  is  not  wanted :  be- 
cause a  man  can  do  as  well  without  righteousness  as  he  can 
with  it ;  because  he  who  forgets  the  Creator,  and  injures  the 
creature,  is  as  much  loved  and  honoured  as  the  just.  Let 
any  man  ask  the  question  of  his  own  mind,  if  he  has  enjoyed 
the  opportunity  of  comparing  a  life  of  moderate  solitude  with 
the  distractions  of  a  great  city,  where  has  he  forgotten  Christ, 
and  benefactor,  and  kindred,  and  friend  ?  where  is  it  that  he 
has  found  his  benevolent  feelings  swallowed  up  in  selfish 
vanity?  where  has  he  lived  hating  and  blaming  himself?  The 
cure  of  all  these  things  is  the  prayer  and  the  solitary  place ; 
that  calmness  and  stillness  of  spirits,  in  which  no  uncharita- 
bleness  can  live,  and  in  which  the  soul  of  man  is  carried  on- 
ward to  futurity,  and  upwards  to  God.  As  the  body,  harassed 
with  the  noxious  air  of  cities,  seeks  relief  in  the  freedom  and 
purity  of  the  fields,  the  mind,  wearied  by  commerce  with 
men,  resumes  its  vigour  in  solitude,  and  repairs  its  dignity. 


300  ON  THE  EFFECT  WHICH  A  lIFE,  &C. 

We  must  not  suppose  that  righteousness  depends  upon  our 
exertions  alone,  and  not  upon  the  situations  in  which  we  are  ' 
placed ;  the  love  of  Christ  is  so  strong  in  some  men's  hearts, 
that  neither  heights,  nor  depths,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers 
can  avail  to  destroy  it.  But  the  greater  part  of  us  are  what 
the  circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed  incline  to  make 
us ;  in  solitude,  thinking  sometimes  of  what  man  is,  and  of 
the  God  that  made  him  ;  in  the  world,  acting  and  thinking  as 
the  world  do  act  and  think,  neglecting  no  pleasure,  avoiding 
no  display,  avoiding  only  our  own  souls,  and  deaf  to  those 
warnings,  which  are  the  whispers  of  Heaven  and  the  calls  to 
salvation. 

It  is  indeed  possible  that  an  human  being  may  pass  a  long 
life  in  the  midst  of  society,  without  getting  one  distinct  view 
of  his  religious  character,  and  may  wait  till  the  pains  of  death 
make  him  look  back  and  tremble ;  his  sorrows  have  all  been 
dissipated;  his  compunctions  smothered;  his  old  age  forgotten; 
his  object  has  been  to  blunt  all  those  feelings  which  lead  to 
salvation ;  to  heal  instantly  every  warning  pain,  which  might 
make  him  change ;  to  avail  himself  of  all  the  diversions  be- 
fore him ;  to  forget  unpleasant  duties  ;  and  then,  after  three- 
score and  ten  years  of  voluptuous  oblivion,  he  wakes  to  the 
judgments  of  God. 

In  saying  these  things  I  am  well  aware  that  the  necessities 
of  human  life  do  not  allow  to  us  all  to  place  ourselves  in 
situations  where  the  object  of  a  rational  and  moderate  inter- 
course with  our  fellow-creatures  may  be  best  promoted.  Some 
are  compelled  by  the  accidents  of  the  world,  to  mingle  more 
with  their  fellow-creatures,  some  less ;  but  it  is  the  indispensa^ 
ble  duty  of  all  who  cannot  avoid  scenes  of  tumult  and  per- 
petual occupation,  to  remember  that  tendency  which  such 
scenes  have  to  harden  the  heart,  and  to  make  man  forget  his 
Redeemer  and  his  God ;  it  is  their  duty  ever  to  call  to  mind, 
that  all  these  works  of  men  with  which  they  are  conversant, 
are  but  in  fact,  the  works  of  him  who  made  man  ;  and  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  business,  the  pleasure,  and  the  wonder  which 
surround  them,  they  must  not  forget  the  hour  of  death,  the  day 
of  judgment,  and  the  being  which  punishes  and  rewards  ; 
and  let  them,  as  often  as  can  be,  depart  into  the  solitary  place 
and  pray  that  they  remain  unspotted  from  the  world ;  that 
they  be  ever  mindful  of  the  insignificance  of  those  scenes  in 
which  they  are  engaged;  labouring  iu  their  worldly  vocation 
with  hearts  firmly  fixed  upon  the  salvation  of  Christ. 


^!3*>^: 


SEKMON    XLIV. 

ON   THE    CHARACTER    AND    GENIUS 
OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION. 


Our  consolation  abojindeth  by  Christ. — 2d  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  i. 

VERSE  5. 

As  we  are  now  celebrating  the  Nativity  of  our  blessed 
Saviour,  and  giving  loose  to  those  feelings  of  joy  which  arise 
from  such  a  stupendous  instance  of  God's  mercy,  we  can 
surely  do  nothing  better  than  to  take  some  measure  and 
account  of  what  that  advantage  is  we  have  received;  and 
to  examine  upon  what  grounds  of  reason  our  gratitude  is 
indulged. 

In  laying  before  you  for  this  purpose,  a  short  analysis  of 
the  genius  and  nature  of  Christianity,  I  shall  begin  with  its 
negative  excellencies,  because  these  are  what  would  first 
strike  the  mind  of  any  reflecting  man  who  had  remarked  the 
glaring  absurdities  and  deficiencies  of  those  religions  which 
rival  Christianity  only  in  the  number  of  their  proselytes. 

First,  the  genius  of  the  Gospel  is  to  discourage  the  pomps 
and  ceremonies  of  worship,  in  which  all  spurious  and  barba- 
rous religions  are  apt  to  indulge ;  it  attaches  no  importance 
to  outward  trifles ;  the  forms  which  it  exacts  are  few,  and  in- 
stituted for  the  only  purpose  for  which  forms  ought  ever  to 
be  instituted,  to  awaken  the  attention  to  realities. 

It  is,  perhaps,  to  the  simplicity  of  the  Christian  faith,  more 
than  to  any  other  cause,  that  Europe  is  indebted  for  its  supe- 
riority over  the  rest  of  the  world,  for  its  industry,  its  science, 
and  its  comparative  freedom.  In  the  Christian  world,  every 
year  increases  the  boundaries  of  human  knowledge,  and 
multiplies  the  instruments  of  human  happiness.  Man  seems 
to  be  making  that  progress  which  his  Creator  intended  he 
should  make.  In  the  Pagan  world  this  year  is  the  same  as 
the  last,  the  same  as  centuries  before  it ;  a  childish,  and  com- 
26 


802  ON  THE  CHARACTER  AND  GENIUS 

plex  faith ;  interferes  with  every  trifling  arrangement  of  life  ; 
and  so  destroys  all  freedom  of  choice,  and  besets  existence 
with  so  many  frivolous  rules,  that  the  originaHty  of  man  is 
totally  destroyed  ;  and  every  branch  that  he  would  push  forth 
into  the  air  with  natural  strength  and  beauty,  is  bent  into  the 
forms  of  art.  I  only  mean  to  oifer  these  last  observations  as 
a  negative  proof  of  the  genuineness  of  Christianity,  inasmuch 
as  it  shows  the  absence  of  a  defect,  for  which  all  other  widely- 
extended  religions  are  remarkable,  and  certainly,  in  the  minds 
of  grave  men,  ought  to  excite  veneration  for  the  Gospel. 

The  Gospel  is  not  a  religion  of  fables  and  mythology,  cal- 
culated for  the  infantine  simplicity  of  savages.  It  holds  forth 
no  bribe  to  the  senses :  and  not  only  does  not  ask  their  aid, 
but  hmits  their  gratifications  within  the  narrowest  limits  of 
virtue.  It  is  as  far  removed  from  austerity  as  from  sensu- 
ality, for  one  of  these  two  is  commonly  a  feature  in  alJ  spurious 
religions ;  either  God  is  represented  as  bribing  his  votaries 
by  bodily  pleasures,  or  his  votaries  are  enjoined  to  appease 
him  by  bodily  pains ;  the  Creator  is  cruel,  or  the  creature 
voluptuous ;  these  two  features  carry  with  them  such  strong 
marks  of  vulgar  imposture,  that  a  man  of  discretion  may  at 
once  condemn  as  spurious  every  religion  in  which  they  are 
observable  ;  the  Christian  faith  throws  a  veil  over  these  scenes 
and  puts  an  end  for  ever  to  vain  curiosity,  by  telhng  us  that  the 
eye  has  never  se^n  such  things  as  we  shall  hereafter  see,  that 
the  ear  has  not  heard  them,  nor  has  the  heart  thought  them. 

The  Gospel  has  no  enthusiasm;  it  pursues  always  the 
same  calm  tenour  of  language,  and  the  same  practical  views 
in  what  it  enjoins ;  nor  does  it  ever  in  any  way  connect  itself 
with  questions  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  policy.  These  errors 
do  not  exist  in  the  Gospel,  and  they  do  exist  in  all  other  reli- 
gions but  the  Gospel ;  there  is  no  other  faith  which  is  not 
degraded  by  its  ceremonies,  its  fables,  its  sensuality,  or  its  vio- 
lence ;  the  Gospel  only  is  rational,  simple,  correct,  and  mild. 

The  Gospel  contains  a  set  of  rules  every  one  of  which 
appears  eminently  calculated  to  promote  our  happiness ; 
among  the  foremost  of  these  rules  is  poorness  of  spirit,  by 
which  is  meant  a  mind  habitually  void  of  offence,  a  favoura- 
ble construction  of  men's  motives,  a  connivance  at  little  inju- 
ries and  insults ;  moderation  in  resenting,  and  readiness  in 
forgiving  those  of  a  more  serious  nature ;  a  retiring,  modest, 
and  gentle  disposition.  Now  it  is  plain,  if  such  were  the 
prevaihng  spirit  among  men,  that  the  earth  would  be  a  far 
different  scene  from  what  it  now  is ;  to  see  what  the  magni- 


OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  RELIGIOX.  303 

tude  of  that  good  is  which  Christianity  aims  at  conferring  by 
this  rule,  it  is  necessary  to  remark  the  effects  this  rule  pro- 
duces where  it  is  obeyed,  the  happiness  which  a  gentle,  and 
amiable  man  diffuses  around  him,  the  air  of  benevolence  and 
content  visible  in  those  who  live  within  his  influence,  and 
who  seem  to  be  breathing  a  purer  atmosphere,  and  living  in 
some  land  of  Goshen,  unsmitten  by  the  hail,  and  unvexed  by 
the  storm.  The  opposite  character  which  the  Scriptures 
labour  to  correct,  is  the  heroic  character,  the  inordinate  love 
of  glory  and  power ;  and  no  man  can  for  a  moment  doubt 
which  of  these  two  characters  he  would  wish  to  see  prevail, 
which  carries  misery  in  its  train,  which  joy,  which  desolates 
the  earth,  and  which  gladdens  it. 

Another  great  feature  of  the  morality  of  the  Gospel  is  that 
sublime  jurisdiction  which  it  exercises  over  the  thoughts, 
beginning  with  the  rudiments  of  all  action,  and  making  the 
life  correct  by  rendering  the  heart  pure  ;  a  rule  so  far  removed 
from  severity,  that  it  diminishes  the  difficulty  of  virtue ;  for 
of  a  certainty  it  is  a  much  lighter  command  to  say  to  men, 
your  thoughts  and  your  actions  shall  be  one,  you  shall  intend 
good  and  do  good,  than  to  say,  you  shall  indulge  in  every 
licentious  imagination,  and  abstain  from  every  evil  act ;  you 
shall  prepare  yourself  for  the  commission  of  every  sin,  in  order 
to  practice  every  virtue. 

The  Gospel  makes  one  great  commuj3t^y  of  us  all,  and 
while  it  cherishes  the  more  confined  affections  of  family  love, 
does  not  forget  to  inculcate  an  affection  for  the  whole  species, 
as  a  great  and  indispensable  duty ;  while  it  makes  good  hus- 
bands, good  fathers,  and  good  sons,  it  kindles  in  the  bosoms 
of  the  faithful  that  warm  philanthropy  which  watches  for, 
and  employs  every  occasion  to  promote,  the  happiness  of  the 
whole  human  race. 

The  Grospel  detaches  us  from  the  world,  that  is,  it  does  not 
allow  the  affections  to  take  a  deeper  root  in  the  world  than  is 
necessary  for  that  period  which  limits  their  existence  ;  it  pre- 
vents men  from  hoping  and  fearing  in  a  life  of  seventy  years, 
as  they  would  hope  and  fear  in  a  life  of  many  thousand ;  its 
prohibitions  do  not  abohsh  those  feelings  which  stimulate 
human  industry,  but  proportion  the  vehemence  of  the  appetite 
to  the  real  value  of  the  thing  desired ;  they  moderate  the  pains 
of  disappointment  and  the  zeal  of  contention,  by  reminding  us 
that  this  is  but  a  small  part  of  existence,  and  that  it  is  foolish 
to  attach  as  much  importance  to  it  as  if  it  were  the  whole. 

The  Gospel  exacts  forgiveness  of  injuries,  and  grants  for- 


304  ON  THE  CHARACTER  AND  GENIUS 

giveness  of  sins  upon  these  terms ;  it  allows  no  rest  or  resi- 
dence to  the  malevolent  passions,  but  requires  a  mind  without 
the  spot  or  blemish  of  hatred  ;  it  loves  repentance,  the  sighing 
of  a  contrite  heart,  and  the  desire  of  such  as  be  sorrowful ; 
and  requires,  in  all  the  dangers  and  distresses  of  the  world, 
an  undoubting  confidence  in  God. 

What  is  of  equal  value  with  such  precepts,  these  books 
contain  the  life  of  Christ,  of  a  being  who,  amid  the  verbal 
disputes  and  idle  ceremonies  of  an  illiberal  people,  taught  his 
countrymen  that  the  only  useful  knowledge  was  the  know- 
ledge of  God's  will,  and  the  only  true  religion  to  do  it ;  who 
lived  a  life  so  blameless  that  the  very  murderers  who  slew 
him  for  destroying  their  superstition,  dared  not  breathe  against 
his  unpolluted  name  the  murmur  of  a  crime  ;  who  at  every 
season,  without  intermission,  when  he  dared,  in  the  midst  of 
cities,  when  he  was  compelled  in  the  midst  of  deserts,  poured 
forth  his  immortal  precepts  of  goodness  and  wisdom,  that  he 
might  make  the  earth  gentle,  and  fill  it  with  the  spirit  of 
charity.  Such  is  the  Gospel,  such  the  benefits  for  which,  in 
the  ensuing  nativity  of  our  Saviour,  we  are  about  to  return 
thanks  to  Almighty  God;  it  is  a  religion  without  pomp,  and 
which  does  not  meddle  with  every  little  frivolous  arrangement 
of  our  daily  business.  It  is  neither  austere,  nor  fabulous,  nor 
sensual,  nor  enthusiastic,  nor  political,  nor  warlike  ;  there  is 
one  first  principl^ervades  every  syllable  of  its  moral  regula- 
tions, and  that  is^fte  principle  of  promoting  human  happi- 
ness ;  for  why  are  we  to  forgive,  but  that  the  tendency  of 
human  passions  is  in  the  contrary  direction  ?  why  are  we  to 
hang  loosely  upon  the  world,  and  not  to  cling  to  it,  but  be- 
cause we  should  be  the  most  wretched  of  created  beings,  if 
we  loved  that,  with  the  vehemence  of  eternal  passion,  which 
we  are  not  sure  to  enjoy  for  a  single  hour  ?  why  are  we  to 
subdue  high-mindedness,  and  to  become  poor  in  spirit,  but 
because  loftiness  of  spirit  has  so  often  bathed  the  world  in 
blood,  and  shaken  the  foundations  of  human  happiness  ?  in 
short,  there  is  not  in  the  Gospel  a  single  precept,  which  has 
not  a  direct  tendency  to  make  the  wodd  all  that  we  find  it  to 
be  in  some  of  its  parts,  and  to  refine  every  human  being  into 
that  gentleness  of  character,  which  delights  us  so  much,  in 
those  best  of  human  beings,  who  have  spent  their  lives  in 
the  exertions  of  kindness,  and  in  the  subjugation  of  passion  j 
add  to  this,  the  importance  of  the  motives  by  which  it  ope-, 
rates,  and  the  perfect  example  which  it  contains,  and  you 
have  a  summary  of  the  Gospel. 


OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  RELIGION.  305 

To  conclude,  if  any  man  should  think  fit  to  inquire  what 
the  Gospel  has  done  for  us,  and  in  what  way  the  condition, 
of  man  is  meliorated  by  it  ?  the  answer  is,  that  no  man  with 
an  ordinary  share  of  candour,  and  with  ordinary  talents  for 
observation,  can  doubt  of  the  extensive  and  beneficial  effects 
of  the  Gospel ;  not  a  day  passes,  but  the  violence  of  resent- 
ment is  mitigated  by  it ;   it  extinguishes  a  thousand  hatreds ; 
reconciles  long-separated  friends,  and  not  only  reconciles,  but 
by  teaching  a  spirit  of  charity,  prevents  those  animosities 
which   render   reconciliation   necessary.      Christianity   has 
infused  such  an  amiable  temper  into  this  country,  that  nothing 
is  so  shamed  or  discountenanced  as   a  resentment  excessive 
in  its  effects,  or  implacable  in  its  duration.     Will  any  one 
say,  that  many  minds  are  not  daily  fortified  against  temptation 
by  the  Gospel?  that  the  train  of  inward  thoughts  is  not 
purified  by  it?  that  many  unhappy  persons  are  not  daily 
supported  by  the  Gospel  in  pain,  in  obscurity,  in  poverty,  in 
old  age,  in  loss  of  kindred,  in  the  hour  of  death  ?  will  kny 
man  say  that  the  hungry  are  not  fed  by  the  Gospel  ?  that  the 
sick  are  not  healed  by  it?  in  short,  there  is  no  question  which 
may  not  be  iitigiously,  or  captiously  put ;  but  I  confess  I 
should  be  beyond  measure  surprised  to  find,  that  any  man  of 
real  candour  and  intelligence,  could  for  a  moment  doubt  of 
the  temporal  effects  of  Christianity  ;  that  he  could  suffer  him- 
self really  to  ask,  whether  the  most  benevolent  precepts, 
enforced  by  the  highest  motives,  and  believed  by  the  greatest 
part  of  the  world,  to  be  revealed  by  God,  can  produce  any 
beneficial  effects  upon  the  tempers  and  dispositions  of  men  ; 
that  Christianity  has  elevated  our  nature  to  that  immaculate 
perfection  which  it  describes,  is  of  course   not  true,  nor  ap- 
proaching to  the  truth  ;  for  the  heart  of  man,  as  the  Psalmist 
says,  is  desperately  wicked;  but  if  there  was  removed  from  that 
heart,  all  that  the  Gospel  has  planted  in  it;  if  all  the  charity, 
the  candour,  the  gentleness,  the  faith,  and  the  holy  hope  were 
driven  from  the  world,  which  the  Gospel  has  brought  into  it, 
I  am  sure  I  know  not  who  would  choose  to  remain  behind ; 
we  should  then  see  what  man  is  by  himself,  and  what  man 
is  taught  by  his  Maker ;   and  when  every  bad  passion  was 
let  loose,  and  the  earth  was  one  scene  of  horror  and  crime, 
we  should  then  know  what  Revelation  hath  done  for  human 
happiness,  and   feel   th^t   our   consolation   aboundeth   only 
through  Christ. 

.^6* 


#  '   '^z^^W^^i^^^^^^^^''^--^' 


SERMON    XLV. 
FOR  THE   SCOTCH  LYING-IN   HOSPITAL. 


I  have  heard  a  voice  as  of  a  w^oman  in  travail,  and  the  anguish  as  of  her 
that  bringeth  forth  her  child. — Jekiimiah  iv.  vebse  31. 

To  listen  to  that  voice  which  the  prophet  in  imagination 
heard,  to  diminish  a  real  anguish,  which  he  only  witnessed 
with  the  eye  of  fancy  ;  to  minister  to  the  weariness  of  heart, 
to  the  wailing  and  spreading  of  hands,  and  to  lift  from  the 
ground  many  a  living  being  that  crieth  out,  woe  is  me,  my 
soul  is  weary;  to  do  what  Jesus  Christ  did,  to  act  as  he  com- 
manded, and  to  labour  in  the  work  of  salvation  and  love,  for 
these  objects  we  are  met  here  this  night  ;*  for  a  moment  the 
business  of  the  world  is  forgotten  ;  the  aged  are  thoughtless 
of  their  infirmities  ;  the  gay  of  their  pleasures;  the  busy  of 
their  toils ;  the  church  has  told  you,  that  there  is  great  af- 
fliction in  the  land,  and  ye  have  entered  into  this  holy  place 
to  minister  unto  it.  May  God  bless  this  purpose,  may  he 
breathe  into  you  the  soul  of  sanctity,  and  for  the  mercies  of 
the  present  hour,  forget  the  sins  that  are  past,  and  lessen  the 
sorrows  that  are  to  come. 

The  sun  is  now  fallen  in  the  heavens,  and  the  habitations 
of  men  are  shaded  in  gross  darkness.  That  sun  is  hastening 
onwards  to  other  cHmates,  to  carry  to  all  tongues,  and  people, 
and  nations  the  splendour  of  day.  What  scenes  of  mad 
ambition  and  of  bleeding  war  will  it  witness  in  its  course. 
What  cruel  stripes ;  what  iron  bondage  of  the  human  race  ; 
what  debasing  superstition ;  what  foul  passions  ;  what  thick 
and  dismal  ignorance  !  It  will  beam  upon  the  savage  and 
sensual  Moor;  it  will  lighten  the  robber  of  Arabia  to  his 

*  This  Sermon  was  preached  in  the  night,  as  is  the  custom  with  Charity 
Sermons  in  Scotland, 


FOR  THE  SCOTCH  LYING-IN  HOSPITAL.  307 

prey ;  it  will  glitter  on  the  chains  of  the  poor  negro.  It 
will  waken  the  Indian  of  the  ocean  to  eat  the  heart  of  his 
captive.  The  bigot  Turk  will  hail  it  from  the  summit  of 
his  mosque ;  it  will  guide  the  Brahmin  to  his  wooden  gods  ; 
but  in  all  its  course  it  will  witness  perhaps  no  other  specta- 
cle of  a  free,  rational  people,  gathered  together  under  the 
influence  of  Revelation,  to  lighten  the  load  of  human  misery, 
and  to  give  of  their  possessions  to  the  afflicted,  and  the  poor. 
There  is  so  much  evil  mixed  with  all  human  attempts  at 
improvement,  and  we  are  driven  so  frequently  to  sacrifice 
one  good  to  obtain  a  greater,  that  hardly  any  scheme  has 
been  proposed  for  promoting  human  comfort,  which  has  not 
experienced,  in  its  infancy,  a  strenuous  opposition  ;  as  often 
as  such  opposition,  proceeding  from  a  mistaken  calculation  of 
good  and  evil,  is  conducted  with  temper  and  moderation,  it 
deserves  gentle  treatment,  and  though  it  should  be  refuted,  it 
should  also  be  respected.  The  best  answer  that  can  be  given 
to  the  very  well-disposed  people,  who  view  with  jealousy 
the  institutipn  of  a  Lying-in  hospital,  is  their  general  esta- 
blishment throughout  the  whole  of  Europe.  On  the  conti- 
nent, as  I  have  just  now  stated,  there  is  hardly  a  great  city 
without  them,  and  in  London  they  are  twelve  in  number;  in 
one  of  these  only,  I  perceive  by  the  printed  accounts  of  the 
year  1789,  that  twenty  thousand  women  have  been  received 
since  its  first  institution  ;  I  observe,  also,  there  is  hardly  a 
dignitary  of  the  English  Church,  who  has  not  preached  in  their 
favour,  and  the  crowd  of  respectable  names  of  either  sex, 
who  have  contributed  to  their  support,  is  admirable  and  im- 
mense. Much  as  I  love  and  respect  that  jealousy  of  religious 
men  in  this  country  which  watches  over  the  purity  of  morals 
with  parental  caution,  t  would  remind  them,  that  the  love  of 
virtue  is  not  confined  to  this,  or  to  any  other  country  ;  that 
there  are  men  in  the  metropolis  of  this  island,  as  unimpeached 
in  their  moral  and  religious  character,  as  jealous  of  public 
corruption,  and  as  able  to  foresee  consequences,  who  after  an 
experience  of  half  a  century,  continue  to  uphold  these  charities 
with  the  most  Christian  zeal,  and  to  sacrifice  to  their  welfare 
a  very  large  portion  of  their  time  and  attention.  The  rea- 
sonings which  influence  the  opponents  to  this  hospital,  might 
have  been  more  efficacious,  if  such  an  institution  were  new  ;  ■ 
but  you  are  not  requested  to  try  an  experiment,  or  to  set  an 
example  of  Christian  charity  ;  you  have  the  incitement  of 
other  men's  actions,  and  the  benefit  of  their  courage  ;  the 


308  FOR  THE  SCOTCH  LYING-IN  HOSPITAL. 

danger  which  you  suspect  has  been  proved  not  to  exist,  and 
the  blessings  they  have  scattered  you  may  diffuse  ;  theirs 
vsras  the  vigour  which  strikes  out  original  plans  ;  yours  the 
benevolence  which  pursues  them  when  crowned  with  suc- 
cess ;  the  path  to  them  was  perilous,  to  you  it  is  safe ;  all 
rational  opposition  has  been  for  ever  silenced,  by  the  irre- 
sistible reasoning  of  facts  ;  to  the  reasoning  of  ignorance 
and  passion,  we  can  only  oppose  the  feeling  of  silent  com- 
passion. 

The  branch  of  political  economy  with  which  Christianity 
is  the  most  concerned,  is  the  provision  for  the  support  and 
comfort  of  the  poor, — for  the  first  systematic  work  on  political 
economy  all  Europe  is  indebted  to  this  country,  indeed  I  be- 
lieve to  this  city.  Let  it  not  be  said  that  those  were  the  last 
to  practice,  who  were  the  first  to  teach ;  that  magnificent 
views  and  mistaken  objections  can  originate  in  the  same  seat 
of  learning ;  that  you  are  enlightened  in  everything  but  your 
practice ;  and  that  you  exemplify  the  errors  which  you 
refute. 

If  old  age,  if  the  orphan  state,  if  madness,  have  ail  their 
separate  establishments,  abounding  in  comforts,  regulated 
with  care,  and  endowed  even  to  opulence,  why  are  poor  un- 
happy women  to  be  abandoned  at  a  season  when  they  are 
just  objects  of  the  tenderest  compassion?  If  we  diffuse  the 
blessings  of  education  from  public  funds ;  if  we  minister  to 
the  sharp  anguish  of  wounds  and  fractures ;  if  we  fan  the 
feverish  blood;  if  we  refresh  the  languishing  body  with  wine  ; 
why  are  we  to  desert  the  gentle  mother  when  she  craves  a 
morsel  of  food  which  she  cannot  then  gain  for  herself?  Why  is 
charity  cold,  why  is  science  mute  for  her  alone  ?  Why  nurse 
we  the  tree  and  leave  the  seed  to  perish  ?  Why  multiply  the 
comforts  of  man  in  his  maturity,  and  provide  for  his  necessi- 
ties, while  we  leave  his  infant  body  to  the  winds,  and  engrave 
upon  his  printless  heart,  in  the  first  morning  of  life,  the  feel- 
ings of  pain  ? 

Independent  of  all  charitable  notions,  as  an  appendage  and 
a  very  important  one  to  a  school  of  medicine,  this  charity 
deserves  your  notice  and  protection, — the  Scotch  are  said  to 
love  their  country  with  the  warmest  affection ;  I  have  lived 
long  enough  among  them  to  see  that  that  love  is  well  be- 
stowed. In  some  it  is  a  blind  impulse,  but  those  who  know 
the  reasons  on  which  their  predilection  rests,  will  be  proud  to 
see  the  principles  of  the  healing  art  diffusing  themselves  from 


FOR  THE  SCOTCH  LYING-IN  HOSPITAL.  309 

their  native  land  over  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe, — to  reflect 
that  even  in  the  heart  of  India,  or  in  the  wilds  of  America,  the 
science  imbibed  in  this  place,  may  soothe  pain,  strengthen 
weakness,  and  drive  out  the  raging  pestilence  that  stalketh 
among  the  habitations  of  men.  It  is  of  the  utmost  consequence 
that  the  reputation  of  your  noble  and  incomparable  school  of 
medicine  should  be  consulted  by  the  encouragement  of  this 
hospital.  If  there  be  present  in  this  church  any  of  the  chief 
men  of  this  country;  respectable  from  their  rank,  their  years, 
their  offices,  and  their  talents ;  by  whose  advice  the  powers 
which  govern  would  be  influenced,  and  by  whose  authority  the 
people  are  willingly  swayed; — I  ask  them,  if  they  can  see  with- 
out serious  regret,  such  a  rational  charity  as  this  abandoned 
from  want  of  support  ?  if  they  could  hear  without  a  pang, 
that  this  consecrated  ground  was  sold  ?  if  they  could  see  un- 
moved, other  edifices  erected  on  that  spot  where  the  wife  of 
the  poor  man  found  shelter  for  her  sick  body,  and  her  helpless 
child  ?  If  there  are  any  circumstances  which  induce  a  man 
to  look  out  of  the  circle  of  his  own  family  and  friends  to  the 
wider  interests  of  humanity;  if  in  that  best  school  of  all  the 
virtues,  you  have  learned  to  forget  yourselves,  to  joy  and 
suffer  in  the  souls  of  others ;  if  you  are  happy  enough  to 
know  that  warm  social  affections,  guided  by  reason  to  their 
object,  constitute  the  noblest  work  of  Heaven;  come  forth  and 
save  this  charity  from  destruction :  statues  and  speaking  in- 
scriptions, the  broken  accents  of  children,  the  bursting  hearts 
of  mothers,  the  smiles  of  angels,  the  Son  of  God  shall  bless 
you. 

I  know  very  well  that  there  are  many  men  who  imagine, 
that  this  department  of  medicine  is  unworthy  the  name  of 
science  ;  and,  that  while  all  other  branches  have  been  rescued 
from  the  hands  of  uneducated  people,  where  they  were  all 
originally  placed,  this  should  still  be  retarded  by  ignorance, 
and  disgraced  by  hypothesis. — The  dignity  of  science  is 
compounded  of  its  difficulty  and  its  utihty;  if  mothers  are 
daily  snatched  away,  at  this  perilous  season ;  if  parents  who 
hoped  to  smile  on  the  cradle  of  their  child,  are  destined  to 
weep  on  his  tomb ;  why  is  not  the  will  of  nature  to  be  dis- 
covered, recorded,  and  taught  here  as  in  all  her  other  opera- 
tions ?  why  is  she  gazed  at  with  such  trembling  attention  in 
her  mournful  hours,  when  she  is  hastening  to  decay?  -and  why 
avert  from  her  the  patient  eye  of  science,  when  she  gives  a 
joyful  increase,  and  lends  to  the  earth  a  living,  thinking  soul? 


310  FOR  THE  SCOTCH  LYING-IN  HOSPITAL. 

This  is  mere  folly,  arrogance,  or  unprincipled  ridicule ;  it  is 
that  kind  of  greatness  which  is  founded  upon  contempt;  that 
which  consists  not  in  doing  difficult  or  praiseworthy  things, 
but  in  denying  that  other  people  do  them,  and  which  sup- 
poses that  all  the  credit  refused  to  the  rest  of  the  world  will 
necessarily  be  reflected  upon  itself. 

Having  thus  done  what  in  me  lies  to  convince  your  reason 
that  this  charity  is  worthy  of  your  approbation,  let  me  inquire 
of  your  feelings,  if  the  objects  whom  it  reheves  are  worthy  of 
your  compassion.  "*"; 

First,  let  me  remind  you  that  the  objects  of  this  charity, 
are  women: — Providence  has  denied  to  them  the  rough  cou- 
rage which  struggles  with  misfortunes ;  it  has  made  them  the 
comforters  of  man,  and  left  them  to  his  grateful  protection.  If 
we  cannot  all  be  saved  from  hunger  and  thirst,  let  them 
take  the  last  morsel  of  bread,  and  the  single  cruise  of 
oil,  and  be  clothed  with  the  remaining  fleece ;  if  charity  is 
cold  for  every  other  suffering,  it  must  not  abandon  them  in 
whom  the  fountains  of  Christian  goodness  are  never  dry; 
remember  how  they  sit  whole  nights  in  the  sick  man's  cham- 
ber, how  they  know  the  language  of  his  moaning,  and  give 
him  what  his  looks  can  only  ask ;  see  how  the  timid  child 
clings  to  his  mother,  how  all  wretched  people  flock  to  women 
as  the  temples  of  mercy.  Whatever  else  be  their  faults, 
cruelty  is  not  one  ;  there  never  was  a  wretch  so  loathsome, 
so  poor,  and  so  sad,  who  has  not  found  in  woman  a  pity  which 
the  multitude  of  his  griefs  could  never  weary.  When  the 
disciples  of  Jesus  went  away  to  their  own  homes,  it  was  Mary 
who  sat  down  at  the  sepulchre  and  wept. 

If  this  compassion  is  due  to  women  at  all  other  seasons, 
what  shall  we  say  of  it  in  the  season  of  child-birth  ?  a  season 
so  perilous,  that  our  church  has  bade  every  woman  who  has 
passed  through  it,  return  thanks  to  Almighty  God  for  her 
safety.  If  you  have  ever  entered  the  house  of  a  poor  man, 
and  seen  how  few  of  the  comforts  of  life  it  contains,  you  must 
feel  some  compassion  for  a  mother  abandoned  to  her  agonies 
in  the  midst  of  wretchedness  and  noise;  surrounded  by  other 
children,  without  money  to  purchase  food,  or  the  comfortable 
voice  of  a  friend  that  she  loves  to  hear.  You,  who  have  been 
the  mother  of  children,  who  have  enjoyed  at  this  season  quiet 
friendship,  and  the  anxious  tenderness  of  family  love ;  you 
should  have  some  mercy  on  mothers  poorer  than  yourselves : 
— If  you  know  their  sorrows,  minister  to  their  poverty, — if 


FOR  THE  SCOTCH  LYING-IN  HOSPITAL.  311 

you  remember  what  you  felt  for  your  children,  remember  also 
that  the  voice  of  nature  speaketh  as  loud  in  the  hearts  of  the 
poor. 

If  the  image  of  a  parent  forsaken  at  this  time  of  her  dis- 
tress, has  aught  in  it  which  appeals  to  our  compassion,  how 
awful  the  spectacle  of  a  mother  driven  by  hunger  and  despair 
to  the  destruction  of  her  child.  To  see  a  gentle  creature 
hurled  from  the  bosom  to  which  it  turns — grasped  by  the 
hands  that  should  have  toiled  for  it, — mangled  by  her  who 
should  have  washed  it  with  her  tears,  and  warmed  it  with 
her  breath  and  fed  it  with  her  milk !  You  may  enjoy  a  spec- 
tacle far  different  from  this ;  you  may  see  the  tranquil  mother 
on  the  bed  of  charity,  and  the  peaceful  child  slumbering  in 
her  arms  ;  you  may  see  her  watching  the  trembling  of  every 
limb,  and  listening  to  the  tide  of  the  breath,  and  gazing 
through  the  dimness  of  tears  on  the  body  of  her  child.  The 
man  who  robs  and  murders  for  his  bread,  would  give  charity 
to  this  woman ;  good  Christians  have  mercy  upon  her,  and 
death  shall  not  snatch  away  your  children :  they  shall  live 
and  prosper;  mankind  will  love  them!  God  will  defend 
them ! 

There  is  a  circumstance  remarked  before  the  season  of 
child-birth,  not  unworthy  of  observation  in  this  place ;  I  mean 
the  inexpressible  anxiety  of  the  mother  to  provide  for  her  ex- 
pected child  every  possible  comfort  it  can  want ;  to  prepare 
its  clothes,  and  to  convince  herself  by  perpetual  interference 
and  examination,  that  everything  is  ready  for  its  reception.' 
To  some  the  mention  of  this  may  appear  trifling  and  ridicu- 
lous ;  I  say  it  is  the  bird  building  her  nest,  and  the  ewe  seek- 
ing the  sheltered  pasture ;  it  is  the  eternal  God,  speaking  as 
he  speaks  to  the  native  savage,  and  the  creatures  of  the  forest ; 
it  is  that  language  which  is  more  moving  than  the  tombs  of 
heroes,  or  the  ruins  of  a  great  city ;  it  is  that  gospel  which 
has  gone  forth  to  all  lands ;  it  is  that  piercing  original  appeal 
of  unprotected  weakness,  which  mankind  has  heard  in  every 
age,  which  moistens  every  human  face  with  tears,  and  melts 
every  soul  of  flesh. 

If  the  people  of  this  island  enjoy  any  moral  advantages 
over  the  rest  of  Europe,  it  is,  perhaps,  in  the  domesticity  of 
their  character,  in  their  attachment  to  family  life,  and  the 
pleasure  which  they  derive  from  the  society  of  their  children 
and  wives ;  I  am  speaking  to  those  who  will  understand  me 
well,  when  I  remind  you  of  the  feehngs  of  a  poor  industrious 


312  FOR  THE  SCOTCH  LYING-IN  HOSPITAL. 

man,  whose  earnings  exhausted  in  the  purchase  of  food,  dis- 
able him  from  making  any  provision  at  this  season  for  the 
comforts  of  his  wife.  When  you  see  him  toihng  from  sun  to 
sun,  and  still  unable  to  rise  from  the  necessities  of  the  present 
hour,  will  you  not  save  to  such  an  useful,  honest  being,  the 
anguish  of  returning  to  a  sick  house ;  the  sight  of  agonies 
which  he  cannot  relieve,  and  of  wants  to  which  he  cannot 
administer  ?  Give  me  a  little  out  of  your  abundance  and  I  will 
lift  off  this  weight  from  his  heart ;  listen  to  me  when  I  kneel 
before  you  for  humble,  wretched  creatures ;  help  me  with 
some  Christian  offering,  and  I  will  give  meat  to  the  tender 
mother,  and  a  pillow  for  her  head,  and  a  garment  for  the  little 
child,  and  she  shall  bless  God  in  the  fullness  of  her  heart. 

I  fear  I  have  detained  you  too  long ;  but  the  sorrows  of 
many  human  beings  rest  upon  me,  and  many  mothers  are 
praying  that  I  may  bring  back  bread  for  their  children.  I 
told  them  that  this  ancient  Christian  people  had  never  yet 
abandoned  the  wretched,  that  they  had  ever  listened  to  any 
minister  of  Christ  who  spoke  for  the  poor ;  I  bade  them  be  of 
good  comfort,  that  God  would  raise  them  up  friends ;  and  when 
they  showed  me  their  children,  I  vowed  for  you  all,  that  not 
one  of  them  should  perish  for  hunger,  and  for  cold ;  do  not 
send  me  back  empty  handed  to  these  victims  of  sorrow ;  let 
not  the  woman  and  the  suckhng  be  driven  from  their  comfort- 
able home ;  listen  to  the  voice  of  the  woman  in  travail,  and 
minister  to  the  wailing  and  spreading  of  hands  ;  if  one  social 
tie  binds  you  to  human  life ;  if  you  can  tell  how  the  mother's 
heart  is  twined  about  her  child  ;  if  you  remember  how  women 
lighten  the  sorrows  of  life :  if  you  are  the  disciple  of  the  Sa- 
viour Jesus,  to  whom  they  kindly  ministered,  forsake  them 
not  this  once,  and  God  shall  save  you  in  the  hour  of  death 
and  the  day  of  sharp  distress. 


mm- 


#11 


SERMON    XLVI. 

ON  THE   PLEASURES   OF   RELIGION, 


Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace. — Proverbs 
III.  VERSE  1?. 

It  has  always  been  the  practice  with  the  ministers  and 
teachers  of  religion,  to  speak  in  this  manner  of  the  feelings 
which  religion  inspires,  not  to  confine  themselves  to  the  enu- 
meration of  religious  duties,  not  merely  to  state  the  splendid 
reward  of  the  dutiful  in  another  scene  of  existence,  hut  to  con- 
tend that,  here  upon  earth,  pleasure  and  peace  are  the  natural 
consequences  of  religion ;  that  the  righteous  have  not  only 
the  expectation  of  heaven,  but  the  real  enjoyment  of  earth ; 
that,  while  their  future  hopes  are  more  high  than  those  whose 
principles  are  unrestrained,  their  present  pleasures  are,  strictly 
and  literally  speaking,  in  number  more  frequent,  higher  in 
degree,  and  in  nature  more  pure ;  they  have  given  in  their 
contrast,  every  imaginable  advantage  to  the  wicked  man; 
birth,  power,  honour,  genius  and  wealth  ;  they  have  made 
their  righteous  man  humble,  poor,  and  unknown ;  they  have 
said  (and  they  have  said  most  truly),  that  this  last  man  is 
blessed  rather  than  the  first ;  that  his  mind  is  full  of  dearer 
and  sweeter  thoughts ;  that  he  is  less  racked,  excited,  and 
disturbed ;  that  he  has  more  affecting  pleasures,  more  deep 
and  solemn  happiness  ;  that  he  can  so  well  answer  for  the 
wanderings  and  fancies  of  his  mind,  that  he  has  walked  so 
long  and  so  firmly  with  God,  that  his  ways  are  the  ways  of 
■pleasantness,  and  his  paths  the  paths  of  peace. 

To  enumerate  the  pleasures  of  righteousness  is  not  possible, 
without  analyzing  and  dividing  every  feeling  which  belongs 
to  the  system  of  human  passions,  because  the  effects  of  right- 
27 


314  ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  RELIGION. 

eousness  pervade  them  all :  but  I  will  endeavour  to  state  and 
describe  those  which  are  the  most  conspicuous, — and  the  first 
of  these  shall  be,  that  control  which  a  righteous  man  exercises 
over  his  passions  and  desires. 

A  righteous  man  is  a  happy  man,  because  he  is  a  free  man, 
and  the  servant  to  no  inward  lust ;  he  can  act  up  to  his  own 
decisions,  and  when  he  sees  what  is  right,  he  can  do  it ;  he 
has  found  from  experience  that  the  impulse  of  passion  may- 
be withstood,  till  the  resistance  becomes  habitually  strong, 
and  the  passion  habitually  weak,  and  while  the  sinner  stands 
trembhng,  and  says  to  himself,  shall  I  enjoy  this  one  pleasure  ? 
shall  I  tempt  the  mercy  of  God  only  this  once  ?"the  righteous 
man  treads  down  Satan  beneath  his  feet,  defends  his  soul, 
and  walks  on  to  his  salvation,  unheeding  bad  pleasures  that 
lure  him  from  eternity.  If  there  is  wretchedness  upon  earth, 
it  is  to  live  by  a  rule  which  we  perpetually  violate  ;  first,  to 
convince  ourselves  that  the  thing  is  right,  that  prudence  re- 
quires it,  that  the  world  approves  it,  that  religion  ordains  it ; 
then,  when  the  eye  is  tempted,  when  the  heart  is  touched 
only  by  the  faint  beginnings  of  pleasure,  to  forget  prudence, 
to  forget  the  world,  to  forget  religion,  to  enjoy,  and  to  repent ; 
he  who  has  suffered  this  long  hates  and  despises  himself;  he 
can  see  nothing  venerable  in  his  own  nature ;  nothing  but  that 
levity  and  voluptuousness  which  he  would  despise  in  others, 
and  which,  in  spite  of  all  self-love,  he  knows  to  be  despicable 
in  himself. 

The  most  miserable  of  human  beings  are  professed  sinners, 
men  who  despise  rule,  who  look  upon  their  passions  as  mere 
instruments  of  pleasure,  and  are  determined  to  extract  from 
life  every  drop  of  amusement  it  can  afford  ;  the  last  excess  is 
stale  and  tiresome ;  there  must  be  a  higher  degree  of  emotion  ; 
when  everything  else  is  exhausted,  the  destruction  of  all 
decency  affords  some  little  entertainment ;  to  laugh  at  religion 
is,  for  some  time,  new  and  amusing ;  but  immodesty  and  blas- 
phemy soon  weary,  like  all  other  wretched  resources ;  and 
though  it  may  shame  him  to  return,  the  sinner  finds  that 
(whoever  else  may  have  found  it),  he  at  least  has  not  chosen 
the  path  of  pleasantness  and  peace. 

In  fact,  putting  aside  all  religious  considerations,  there  is 
not  a  greater  mistake  in  the  world  than  to  suppose  that  a  pro- 
fligate man  is  a  happy  man  ;  he  seems  to  be  happy,  because 
his  enjoyments  are  more  visible  and  ostentatious ;  but  is  in 
truth  a  very  sorry  and  shallow  impostor,  who  may  deceive 


ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  RELIGION.  315 

the  young,  but  is  laughed  at  by  the  wise,  and  by  all  who 
know  in  what  true  happiness  consists ;  the  truly  happy  man 
is  he  who  has  early  discovered  that  he  carries  within  his 
own  bosom  his  worst  enemies,  that  the  contest  must  be  man- 
fully entered  into ;  that  if  righteousness  does  not  save  him 
from  his  sinful  appetites,  they  will  rule  him  up  to  the  moment 
of  the  grave  ;  that  they  will  bend  him  down  to  the  earth,  and 
tear  and  rend  him  like  the  bad  spirits  in  Scripture  ;  that  his 
fame  will  be  sullied,  his  mind  and  body  wasted  away,  and 
his  substance  destroyed.  When  Solomon  saw  these  things, 
when  he  beheld  one  woman  groaning  with  despair,  another 
writhing  with  disease,  when  he  beheld  the  follies,  the  errors 
and  crimes  of  the  world,  and  could  see  nothing  placid,  no- 
thing calm,  nothing  stable  but  the  righteous  man ;  then  he 
said,  (and  oh,  how  truly  and  wisely  he  said  it,)  the  Avays  of 
that  man  are  the  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  his  paths  the 
paths  of  peace. 

A  religious  man  is  happy  because  he  is  secure  ;  because  it 
is  not  in  the  power  of  accident,  or  circumstance,  to  disclose 
any  secret  guilt  ;  as  he  is,  he  has  long  been;  he  can  refer  to 
the  blameless  tenour  of  years  ;  to  a  mind  long  exercised  in 
avoiding  offence  towards  God,  and  towards  man  !  His  pre- 
sent enjoyments  are  never  polluted  by  bitter  remembrances 
of  the  past ;  whatever  he  has  of  honour  or  consideration 
among  men,  he  has  honestly  and  safely ;  it  does  not  depend 
upon  their  ignorance,  nor  upon  his  dexterity,  nor  upon  any 
fortunate  combination  of  events ;  the  more  men  know  him, 
the  more  they  love  him ;  the  more  they  try  him,  the  more 
plainly  they  are  convinced  that  he  follows  after  righteousness 
as  the  truest  wisdom,  and  that  this  feeling  is  the  plain  and 
simple  key  to  all  his  actions  ;  herein  it  is  that  the  sinner  so 
grossly  miscalculates  his  happiness,  and  that  he  is  so  bitterly 
taunted  by  the  great  masters  of  ethics  in  the  Scriptures  ;  that 
he  has  lost  that  in  which  the  pleasantness  and  comfort  of 
righteousness  principally  consists  ;  the  inviolable  feeling  of 
security  by  which  it  is  accompanied  ;  believe  me,  whether 
you  have  sold  this  for  money,  or  parted  with  it  for  ambition, 
or  bartered  it  for  the  joy  of  some  vile  appetite,  you  have  lost 
the  purest  and  noblest  instrument  of  human  happiness.  The 
time  will  come  when  you  will  say  to  yourself,  why  did  I 
do  this?  why  did  I  give  up  my  pleasant  innocence?  why 
cannot  I  look  upon  every  man  that  I  meet  with  the  same 
firmness  and  cheerfulness  with  which  I  was  wont  ?     In  this 


31^  ON  THE  PLEASURES  OP  RELIGION. 

short  and  passing  life,  there  is  nothing  which  can  repay  a 
man  for  the  loss  of  his  own  conscious  purity.  In  extreme 
old  age,  he  will  loathe  the  chariots  and  the  horses,  the  pur- 
ple, the  fine  linen,  and  the  sumptuous  fare  the  price  of  his 
soul,  and  will  remember,  (when  it  is  too  late,)  that  the  ways 
of  righteousness  were  pleasant,  and  her  paths  the  paths  of 
peace. 

I  should  say  that  another  great  source  of  pleasure,  from 
religion,  is  the  feelings  of  charity  and  brotherly  love  which 
it  always  inspires.  As  gracious  God  has  given  to  one  object 
beautiful  colours,  and  to  another  grateful  odours,  he  has 
annexed  exquisite  feehngs  of  happiness  to  the  performance 
of  every  benevolent  action ;  it  is  impossible  to  do  good  to 
others,  without  feeling  happy  from  it ;  and  the  conviction, 
which  religion  inspires,  that  a  man  is  not  born  for  himself 
alone,  and  the  habit  which  it  inculcates,  of  attention  to  the 
interests  and  feelings  of  mankind,  induce  at  last  that  state 
of  calm  and  permanent  satisfaction  which  the  words  of 
Solomon  describe.  For  as  nothing  disturbs  us  more  than  to 
perceive  the  eflects  of  that  secret,  yet  general  enmity,  which 
is  produced  by  high-mindedness,  arrogance  and  selfishness, 
so  nothing  is  more  grateful  than  general  love,  produced  by 
a  long  tenour  of  courtesy,  of  justice,  of  active  kindness  and 
of  modest  respect.  It  is  not  only  the  subsequent  reflection 
which  this  benevolence,  the  attribute  of  righteousness,  pro- 
duces, but  it  makes  happiness  by  giving  new  interest  to  hfe; 
other  men  cultivate  the  great,  the  rich  and  the  celebrated ; 
but  the  righteous  man  cultivates  and  studies  all  whom  he 
approaches,  not  because  they  are  rich,  or  great,  or  powerful, 
but  because  they  are  human  beings,  and  it  is  his  duty,  as  a 
Christian,  to  be  gentle  and  gracious  to  all ;  to  make  him 
benevolent,  it  is  not  necessary  that  his  avarice  should  be 
awakened,  his  vanity  gratified,  or  his  curiosity  excited ;  he 
has  no  need  of  such  powerful  motives  ;  but  if  he  can  make 
the  mean  greater  in  their  own  eyes, — if  he  can  give  confi- 
dence to  the  humble, — if  he  can  instruct  the  ignorant,— if  he 
can  do  good  to  any  human  being,  that  is  enough  for  him  ; 
his  recompense  is  that  the  sum  of  human  happiness  should 
be  increased,  and  that  he  himself  should  be  the  humble  in- 
strument of  good.  Contrast  these  feelings  with  the  contempt 
which  worldly  men  assume  ;  the  unchecked  hatred  in  which 
they  think  it  lawful  to  indulge  ;  their  neglect  and  inattention 
to  all  whom  they  have  not  some  poignant  motive  for  honour- 


ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  RELIGION,  317 

ing ;  look  to  this  striking  contrast,  see  what  different  states  of 
mind  must  result  from  this  diversity  of  conduct  and  charac- 
ter, and  then  determine  who  understands  happiness  the  best; 
who  has  taken  the  best  views  of  human  life  ;  whose  ways 
are  the  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  whose  paths  the  paths  of 
peace. 

The  greatest  torment  of  this  world  is  the  uncertainty  of 
living  at  all,  and  the  uncertainty  of  retaining  the  good  things 
of  this  world,  if  we  do  live  ;  but  here  is  a  man,  the  man  of 
religious  wisdom,  who  has  practically  adapted  his  love  of 
some  objects  to  their  own  uncertain  nature  and  hopes,  if  he 
loses  others  here,  to  meet  with  them  in  another  scene  of  ex- 
istence ;  if  he  experiences  a  reverse  of  fortune  he  feels  it ; 
but  he  feels  it  moderately  ;  it  is  not  his  only  hope,  nor  his 
best  hope.  I  would  rather  my  passage  were  pleasant  (he 
says)  but  it  is  only  a  passage  ;  I  am  hastening  onward  to 
that  state  of  existence  which  I  have  been  always  taught 
from  my  first  childhood  to  look  up  to  as  the  end  and  object 
of  this.  I  have  no  false  philosophy  ;  I  allow,  that  what  are 
commonly  called  the  good  things  of  this  world,  are  properly 
the  objects  of  a  moderate  desire  and  attention  ;  but  I  have 
so  trained  and  accustomed  my  mind  to  think  of  something 
better,  I  have  drawn  such  fairer  pictures  and  contemplated 
such  nobler  scenes,  that  no  human  misfortune  can  cast  me 
down,  and  utterly  deprive  me  of  my  pleasantness  and  my 
peace. 

We  see,  sometimes,  that  a  man  rejoices  with  trembling  ; 
that  he  is  afraid  to  give  way  to  his  human  affections,  that  he 
shudders  at  the  warmth  of  his  own  feelings  for  children,  or 
for  parents,  because  he  does  not  know  how  soon  he  may  mourn 
over  the  frailties  of  life  ;  here  (he  says)  I  have  never  checked 
my  heart ;  I  have  shipped  all  my  happiness  upon  that  which 
a  breath  of  wind,  or  a  little  too  much  damp,  or  a  little  too 
much  heat  may  for  ever  destroy  ;  the  righteous  man,  he  also 
has  his  feehngs ;  but  though  his  tears  fall  down  over  the 
dead  like  the  tears  of  other  men  ;  though  he  rends  his  gar- 
ment, and  clothes  himself  in  sackcloth  and  in  ashes,  his 
spirit  comes  back  to  him,  and  his  pleasantness  returns,  be- 
cause he  knows  that  the  souls  of  the  dead  are  in  the  hands  of 
God,  and  that  a  better  state  of  existence  will  restore  to  him 
all  that  he  has  lost  in  this  ;  by  connecting  immortality  with 
this  short  life,  he  lightens  all  its  burthens,  lessens  all  its 
misfortunes,  and  gilds  all  its  pleasures  ;  if  his  happiness  fluc- 

27* 


318  ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  RELIGIOPT. 

tuates  here,  he  can  look  to  that  in  which  there  is  no  varyingfi 
nor  shadow  of  change  ;  if  the  joys  of  this  world  fall  short  of^ 
his  expectations,  he  knows  that  others  await  him  greater 
than  his  imagination  can  conceive  ;  if  he  is  afflicted  here  by 
the  appearances  of  successful  injustice,  and  the  sinner  tri- 
umphing in  the  fruits  of  his  wickedness,  he  cheers  himself 
with  the  thought  of  final  retribution  ;  the  righteous  man  car- 
ries about  with  him  a  charm  which  protects  his  mind  from 
the  effects  of  injury,  vicissitude  and  doubt ;  and  leaves  him  in 
that  state  of  pleasantness  and  peace  which  wealth  and  power 
alone,  and  all  the  common  instruments  of  happiness,  can  so 
seldom  confer. 

I  have  just  now  alluded  to  another  source  of  tranquillity  ia 
the  mind  of  the  righteous  man:  I  mean  the  comforts  he  derives 
from  the  future  retributive  justice  of  rehgion. 

A  man  of  proper  feeling  always  suffers,  from  observing 
the  striking  disproportion  that  exists  in  this  world  between 
happiness  and  merit ;  the  spectacle  of  a  good  man  struggling 
with  misfortune,  or  languishing  in  obscurity,  excites  strong 
compassion ;  but  it  is  the  severest  trial  of  human  patience,  to 
witness  the  respect,  honour  and  prosperity  of  bad  men  ;  there 
are  no  events  which  ruffle  the  tranquiUity  of  the  mind  more, 
and  which  more  encourage  a  general  sensation  of  disgust  at 
human  life.  These  sad  scenes  are  tolerable  to  the  religious 
man  alone,  from  that  final  order  and  regularity  with  which 
he  knows  they  will  hereafter  be  concluded  ;  he  pities  suc- 
cessful vice,  while  others  rage  against,  or  envy  it ;  he  knows 
that  the  good  forgotten,  and  the  just  persecuted,  are  precious 
in  the  sight  of  God,  and  that  their  sorrows  are  the  pledges  of 
salvation.  Wherever  he  looks,  justice  in  its  most  perfect 
shape  terminates  his  view  ;  all  guilt  is  detected  ;  aU  innocence 
is  brought  to  hght ;  at  the  conclusion  of  all  things  a  never- 
failing  judge  gives  to  every  thinking  soul,  the  good  and  the 
evil  which  are  its  due. 

These  are  the  vexations  which  the  religious  man  escapes, 
and  these  the  sources  of  that  tranquillity  which  so  commonly 
falls  to  his  share  ;  his  happiness  does  not  obtrude  itself;  it  is 
not  noisy  nor  splendid ;  it  does  not  consist  in  humbling  the 
pride  and  exciting  the  envy  of  others ;  it  is  deep,  placid  and 
internal;  a  pleasantness  and  a  peace  proceeding  from  mode- 
ration of  desire,  just  observation  on  human  condition,  and 
ardent  hope  of  immortality.  Superstition  is  not  righteous- 
ness,  fanaticism  is  not  righteousness,  nor  are  idle  fears,  or 


ON  THE  PLEASURES  OF  RELIGION.  31^ 

vain  fancies,  or  frivolous  observances  deserving  of  that  name ; 
but  that  Hberal  and  enlightened  righteousness  which  the  Gos- 
pel teaches  is  happiness;  the  most  unbounded  voluptuary 
that  the  world  ever  produced  has  not  a  thousandth  part  of 
that  enjoyment  of  life  that  he  has  whose  passions  are  regu- 
lated, and  whose  hopes  are  immortal.  After  the  first  dark- 
ness of  youthful  ignorance  is  dispelled,  it  is  the  clearest  and 
plainest  of  all  truths  that  righteousness  is  the  only  source  of 
peace ;  the  only  system  upon  which  the  difficulties  and  dis- 
tresses of  life  can  possibly  be  encountered  and  subdued. — No 
man  is  so  profoundly  ignorant  of  pleasure  as  a  professed 
sinner ;  pleasure  is  gained  by  being  the  lord  and  master  of 
our  own  hearts;  by  binding  our  passions  in  links  of  iron; 
by  adapting  worldly  hopes  and  fears  to  the  nature  of  worldly, 
things ;  by  obeying  God,  by  trusting  to  his  providence,  by 
expecting  his  judgments ;  this  is  the  discipline  which  banishes 
fear,  excludes  remorse,  and  renders  despair  impossible ;  it 
gives  birth  to  hope,  it  cherishes  joy,  it  nourishes  great  thoughts, 
it  produces  enchanting  desires,  it  colours  the  earth  over  with 
the  gay  light  of  heaven,  and  makes  the  ways  of  every  man 
the  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  his  paths  the  paths  of  peace. 


SERMON    XLVII. 

UPON    RELIGIOUS    EDUCATION. 


And  ye  fathers,  bring  up  your  children  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of 
the  Lord. — Ephesians  vi.  verse  4,  in  part. 

In  treating  of  the  subject  of  religious  education,  as  I  pro- 
pose to  do  this  day,  it  is  impossible  not  to  begin  with  an 
opinion  which  neither  leans  to  this  nor  that  system,  but  ob- 
jects totally  to  all  religious  education  whatever.  For  instance, 
it  is  said,  why  give  to  children  strong  opinions  upon  subjects 
of  the  highest  difficulty  and  the  highest  importance,  and 
which  they  may  possibly  be  induced  to  change  when  their 
understandings  are  mature  ?  instruct  them  only  in  the  first 
principles  of  natural  religion,  and  leave  them  to  a  gradual 
acquisition  of  the  sacred  truths  of  Revelation,  in  proportion  as 
the  growth  of  their  understandings  enables  them  to  estimate 
the  value  of  that  evidence  upon  which  Christianity  depends ; 
by  these  means  their  belief  will  always  be  rational,  and  they 
will  not  entertain  a  faith  for  which  they  are  not  ready  to 
render  a  reason.  The  objection  to  this  system,  which  appears 
to  be  more  distinguished  for  an  absence  of  good  sound  sense 
than  for  any  feature  of  ingenious  paradox  which  it  may  ex- 
hibit ;  the  objection  to  it  is,  that  yoM  cannot  keep  a  mind  void 
of  all  religious  opinions  which  you  do  not  bring  up  in  a  par- 
ticular system  of  those  opinions ;  such  a  state  of  suspense, 
even  if  it  were  desirable,  cannot  be  obtained  ;  some  principles 
on  such  a  subject  the  mind  will  imbibe,  and  your  alternative 
is,  not  between  those  which  you  are  ready  to  infuse  and  none 
at  all ;  but  it  is  between  your  own  and  those  crude  and  peril- 
ous opinions  which  sin  is  ever  ready  to  suggest,  levity  always 
prompt  to  encourage,  and  ignorance  never  able  to  detect  and 
repel ;  at  the  very  moment  when  you  had  intended  to  begin 


UPON  RELIGIOUS  EDUCATION.  ^^t 

this  long-deferred  education,  to  avail  yourself  of  this  now- 
matured  reason,  and  to  oifer  to  his  free  election  those  truths 
which  you  thought  it  uncandid  to  impress  upon  a  ductile  and 
ignorant  child ;  at  that  moment  you  would  find  the  question  pre- 
judged :  you  would  perceive  the  mind  filled  up  by  opinions  as 
strong  as  those  you  had  kept  away,  but  not  as  good ;  yooi 
would  meet  with  all  the  obstinacy  you  dreaded,  with  prepos- 
sessions equally  formed  before  they  could  be  fairly  discussed; 
but  without  the  qualification  of  their  being  formed  in  favour 
of  truth.  Besides,  can  it  be  a  reason  why  a  parent  should 
not  teach  to  his  children  those  sacred  truths  which  have  taken 
such  firm  hold  of  his  belief,  because  such  truths  may  not 
hereafter  present  to  the  ripe  understanding  of  his  offspring 
an  evidence  as  satisfactory  as  they  have  done  to  his  own  ? 
What  can  any  man  do  but  communicate  to  the  mind  of  an- 
other a  belief  as  sincere  as  that  which  actuates  his  o^vn?  he 
does  so  fearlessly  in  all  human  science  ;  why  should  he  dread 
to  do  it  where  the  instruction  is  more  necessary,  and  the  lesson 
more  awful  ?  It  is  not  possible  to  wait  for  opinions  till  we 
are  capable  of  judging  whether  opinions  are  right  or  wrong  ;.^^ 
we  must  act  before  we  can  reason ;  a  great  part  of  humaft 
life  is  elapsed,  and  all  the  habits  which  are  to  influence  the 
future  man  are  formed  before  it  can  be  said  that  he  is  fairly 
capable  of  forming  a  judicious  opinion  upon  any  abstruse 
subject ;  in  the  meantime  he  must  have  decided  notions  of  sin 
and  righteousness ;  a  divine  law  sanctioning  those  notions ; 
a  strenuous  belief  giving  to  that  law  its  full  influence  upon 
his  actions ;  and  ancient  forms  cherishing  that  strenuous 
belief.  If  none  of  these  things  were  taught  till  the  causes 
from  which  they  originate,  the  evidence  on  which  they  de- 
pend, and  the  consequences  to  which  they  lead,  could  be 
plainly  apprehended,  it  is  quite  clear  that  they  would  soon 
cease  to  be  taught  at  all.  Ye  fathers,  says  the  apostle,  with- 
out any  regard  to  these  things,  bring  up  your  children  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord;  give  them  your  own 
religious  opinions  firmly  and  tenaciously;  plant  so  deep  that^^ 
the  seed  will  not  easily  be  rooted  up ;  instead  of  candidly^^ 
waiting  for  mature  reason,  seize  practically  hold  of  all  the 
softness  and  ductility  of  youth,  use  all  the  influence  and 
authority  of  age  to  inculcate  the  principles  of  the  Gospel : 
whatever  changes  in  those  principles  may  be  made  by  the 
future  commerce  of  life  that  may  depend  upon  circumstances 


322  UPON  RELIGIOUS  EDUCATION. 

over  which  we  have  no  control,  let  us  only  unfold  the  book 
of  God  in  the  season  of  gentleness  and  obedience,  and  after 
this  manner  bring  up  our  children  in  the  nurture  and  admo- 
nition of  the  Lord. 

It  will  not,  I  presume,  be  considered  as  indiscreet  to  re- 
mark, that  some  mischief  is  done  in  religious  education  by  the 
over-zealous  feelings  of  the  teacher,  who  appears  to  believe,  that 
a  sentiment  cannot  be  too  frequently  repeated,  because  it  is 
good,  or  a  cause  be  weakly  defended  because  it  is  right.  At 
a  certain  period  of  youth,  and  with  a  certain  share  of  pene- 
tration in  him  who  reads,  it  is  not  sufficient  that  those  works 
which  are  written  for  religious  instruction  should  be  pious  ; 
they  must  be  able,  as  well  as  pious  ;  there  must  not  only  be 
zeal,  but  zeal  according  to  knowledge  ;  not  merely  abuse  of 
infidelity,  but  conviction  and  refutation  ;  sound  argument 
from  candid  premises  ;  fair  admission,  impartial  statement, 
accurate  knowledge,  vigorous  reasoning,  conclusions  modest 
in  style,  and  irresistible  in  power.  Christianity  disdains  to 
suppress  any  facts,  or  to  impute  bad  motives  instead  of  an- 

^^wering  plausible  objections;  it  must  be  proved  by  something 
stronger  than  exclamation,  and  defended  by  something  less 
precarious  than  feeling ;  the  selection  of  writers  calculated  to 
promote  rehgious  knowledge  in  the  young,  is  therefore  an 
object  of  much  greater  skill  and  delicacy  than  it  is  commonly 
conceived  to  be  ;  because  nothing  can  be  more  pernicious  to 
the  prosperity  of  a  cause  than  the  weakness  and  uncandid 
spirit  of  those  who  are  its  advocates ;  and  amidst  the  great 
number  who  stand  forward  with  laudable  zeal,  in  the  defence 
of  religion,  it  must  of  course  happen  that  there  are  some  who 
have  no  other  merit  than  the  merit  of  intending  well. 

May  we  also  add,  that  some  mischief  is  done  in  religious 

education,  by  the  very  high  tone  taken  up  respecting  reli- 

•     gious  subjects ;  the  evidence  for  Revelation  is  sometimes  rashly 

*^   (    compared  to  geometrical  evidence  ;  everything  is  represented 

"^  \    as  so  clear,  and  so  perspicuous,  that  it  is  impossible  any  diffi- 

^jgulty  can  be  suggested  ;  it  is  not  contended  that  a  solution  is 

^^eady,  but  that  a  doubt  cannot  exist ;  the  mischief  of  which 
overstatement  is,  that  a  young  person,  embarrassed  by  the  first 
arguments  of  infidelity  which  chance  has  thrown  or  design 
placed  in  his  way,  considers  that  he  has  been  deceived,  that 
the  truth  has  been  kept  from  him,  and  becomes  irreligious, 
partly  to  vindicate  the  dignity  of  his  understanding,  partly 


UPON  RELIGIOUS  EDUCATION.  323 

from  the  sudden  suspicion  that  the  cause  of  infideHty  is  much 
stronger  than  it  really  is.  Truth  is  ever  safe  and  ever  dura- 
ble ;  it  is  better  to  admit  at  once,  that  in  a  question  which 
depends  upon  the  evidence  of  eighteen  centuries,  there  are 
some  difficulties,  that  all  is  not  reduced  to  demonstration,  or 
clear  to  be  apprehended  as  objects  of  sense ;  it  is  sufficient, 
that  by  your  own  candour  and  industry,  you  may  arrive  at 
such  a  preponderance  of  evidence  as  will  produce  decided 
conviction,  and  leave  you  without  a  fair  doubt  of  the  Divine 
origin  of  the  Scriptures ;  but  do  not  imagine,  if  you  are  de- 
termined to  investigate  the  question,  that  you  have  no  doubts 
to  dispei  and  no  difficulties  to  solve  ;  those  doubts  you  will 
dispel,  and  those  difficulties  you  will  solve  ;  your  solemn 
opinions  will  at  length  rest,  not  upon  the  authority  of  other 
men's  minds,  but  upon  the  full  conviction  of  your  own. 
Such  is  the  language  that  I  should  deem  it  most  useful  to 
hold  in  religious  education,  and  after  this  manner  would  I 
bring  up  a  child  to  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord. 

A  very  important  part  of  rehgious  education  is  the  virtues 
of  toleration  and  forbearance ;  it  is  the  duty  of  us  all  to  edu- 
cate our  children  in  that  modification  of  the  Christian  faith 
which  we  ourselves  profess,  and  to  inspire  them  with  a  strong 
predilection  for  that  church  of  which  we  are  members,  by 
insisting  on  those  circumstances  upon  which  we  conceive  its 
superiority  to  be  founded ;  but  these  feelings  we  must  labour 
to  unite  with  a  respect  for  every  other  Christian  worship ; 
with  a  conviction  of  the  indisputable  right  of  every  sect  to 
worship  God  after  their  own  notions  of  spirit,  and  of  truth, 
and  with  a  decided  aversion  to  every  species  of  hatred  and 
persecution,  grounded  upon  difference  of  rehgious  opinion. 

The  spirit  of  intolerance,  however,  so  contrary  to  the  nur- 
ture and  admonition  of  the  Lord,  so  apt,  but  for  incessant 
care,  to  mingle  with,  and  pollute  the  true  evangelical  spirit, 
does  not  furnish,  as  many  contend,  any  argument  against  re- 
ligion ;  but  shows  only  how  difficult  it  is  for  men  to  endure 
contradiction  upon  topics  which  so  deeply  penetrate  the  un- 
derstanding, and  affect  the  heart ;  it  shows  the  useful  and 
pervading  energy  of  a  principle  which  a  man  does  not  re- 
ceive as  he  receives  the  cold  truths  of  human  science,  but 
pants  to  carry  it  into  other  men's  hearts,  and  to  light  over 
the  world  the  same  burning  zeal  which  glows  within  him- 
self ;  that  this  spirit  is  capable  of  every  dangerous  excess ; 


324  UPON  RELIGIOUS  EDUCATION. 

that  every  effort  of  religious  education  should  be  used  for  its 
moderation,  is  unquestionably  true  ;  but  it  only  shows  that 
the  thought  of  God,  because  it  is  greater  than  all  other 
thoughts,  stirs  up  stronger  passions  ;  that  when  men  are  think- 
ing of  eternity,  you  cannot  keep  them  within  the  same  limits 
as  if  they  were  reasoning  of  the  interests  of  a  day  ;  but  temper 
this  great  incitement  with  a  commanding  prudence,  and  you 
may  draw  from  it  every  peaceful  virtue  in  this  world,  and 
every  heavenly  blessing  in  the  next. 

There  is  a  toleration  which,  instead  of  proceeding  from  the 
meekness  and  modesty  of  a  Christian,  is  derived  from  a  cal- 
lous indifference  to  every  description  of  faith  ;  this,  of  course, 
is  not  a  virtue,  but  an  accidental  good  consequence  from  a 
vice  ;  the  difficulty  to  conquer,  the  merit  to  display,  the  evan- 
gelical feeling  to  possess,  is  to  cherish  no  sentiment  of  aver- 
sion for  him  who  warmly  denies  what  you  warmly  affirm ; 
who  believes  that  form  to  be  indifferent  which  you  have  al- 
ways been  taught  to  consider  as  essential ;  if  you  wish  to 
such  a  person  no  punishment  and  no  privation  because  such 
has  been  his  rehgious  discipline,  and  such  yours ;  if  at  the 
moment  you  firmly  believe  yourself  right,  you  are  aware  it 
is  possible  you  may  be  wrong ;  if  you  are  at  once  sincere 
and  indulgent,  zealous  and  forgiving,  firm  and  modest,  you 
have  then,  indeed,  fought  a  good  fight ;  the  true  spirit  of  the 
Gospel  is  within  you,  and  good  and  great  is  that  man  who 
has  thus  brought  you  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of 
the  Lord. 

It  is  a  great  difficulty  in  religious  education,  to  inspire 
proper  notions  concerning  the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  reli- 
gion :  one  danger  is,  that  the  practice  of  religion  may  come 
in  time  to  be  considered  as  inferior  in  importance  to  those 
very  forms  which  were  only  instituted  to  promote  and  protect 
it ;  the  opposite  danger  is  that  from  the  neglect  of  forms,  the 
essential  part  of  religion  may  be  itself  impaired  ;  the  age, 
however,  in  which  we  live  is  some  guide  to  him  who  would 
steer  safely  through  those  opposite  extremes,  the  genius  of 
which  is,  I  am  afraid,  rather  to  neglect  those  forms  which  are 
necessary  than  to  cultivate  those  which  are  superfluous. 

Fanaticism  is  one  of  those  great  perils  which  are  cautiously 
to  be  guarded  against,  in  bringing  up  children  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord  ;  they  are  to  be  taught  that  God 
is  not  served  by  extravagance  ;  that  it  is  possible  to  be  fervent 


UPON  RELIGIOUS  EDUCATION.  325 

Without  being  foolish ;  that  the  least  acceptable  sacrifice  to 
Heaven  is  the  sacrifice  of  propriety  and  common  sense ;  that 
though  it  be  a  true  sign  that  you  are  drawing  near  to  God 
when  men  persecute  you  for  your  righteousness,  it  is  a  sure 
sign  that  you  have  mistaken  the  way  to  him,  when  all  men. 
deride  you  for  your  absurdity.  Arrogant  ignorance,  insisting 
upon  persecution,  and  canvassing  for  contempt,  will  never 
reap  the  rewards  of  that  modest  righteousness  which,  shun- 
ning the  notice  of  men,  will  still  rather  endure  persecution, 
than  do  wrong. 

It  is  no  inconsideralJle  part  of  religious  discipline,  to  guard 
the  mind  from  the  influence  of  superstition,  and  to  inspire 
just  notions  of  the  Deity,  so  that  the  soul  may  not  be  afraid 
where  no  fear  is,  nor  those  principles  be  converted  to  our 
punishment  which  were  intended  for  our  happiness.  A  su- 
perstitious man  is  afraid  of  joy  and  amusement,  and  trembles 
when  he  is  not  wretched,  lest  God  should  be  angry;  he  per- 
ceives that  the  means  of  happiness  are  given,  but  he  thinks 
they  were  placed  here  to  tempt,  not  to  bless ;  even  perpetual 
sadness  cannot  make  him  safe ;  a  thousand  involuntary 
thoughts  spring  up,  which  he  thinks  the  angels  record  for  his 
future  punishment ;  he  is  perpetually  acting,  and  looking, 
and  thinking  sin,  and  there  is  always  near  him  a  cruel  and 
envious  God  who  made  him  frail,  and  marks  his  frailty  for 
guilt.  For  him  Nature  has  no  ordinary  course,  and  Provi- 
dence no  general  law ;  every  death  is  a  judgment,  and  every 
sickness  a  visitation ;  nothing  that  concerns  him  is  ever 
brought  about  by  secondary  means ;  he  becomes  healthy,  and 
ill,  rich  and  poor,  by  a  special  interposition  of  Providence ; 
lives  under  a  separate  dispensation,  and  is  the  subject  of  more 
miracles  then  were  employed  for  the  establishment  of  the 
sacred  truths  of  Christ.  All  these  are  false  and  superstitious 
notions  of  the  Deity,  for  though  we  may  believe  that  God  does 
sometimes  interfere,  we  cannot  know  when,  and  it  is  deroga- 
tory to  the  wisdom  of  those  general  rules  by  which  the  world 
is  governed,  to  suppose  that  they  so  perpetually  require  cor- 
rection and  change :  this  is  not  the  true  nurture  and  admoni- 
tion of  the  Lord. — It  is  our  business  rather  to  show  the  young 
that  this  world  does  not  belong  to  the  just  and  the  good ;  that 
wickedness  triumphs  in  it,  and  sin  is  prosperous  ;  but  that 
there  is  One  on  high  who  sees  it  all,  and  will  not  endure  it 
for  ever ;  to  please  whom  you  must  possess  a  mind  prone  to 
38 


336 


UPON  RELIGIOUS  EDUCATION. 


compassion,  swift  to  forgive,  and  able  to  suffer  long ;  which 
no  aspiration  for  power  or  wealth  can  make  base  ;  which  loves 
to  be  good  and  just  better  than  it  loves  any  one  thing  human  ; 
which  employs  life  in  mortifying  sin,  promoting  righteousness 
and  rendering  itself  better  fitted  for  heaven ;  these  are  the 
true  notions  of  the  Almighty,  which  the  Gospel  teaches ;  and 
these  are  the  feelings  the  apostle  would  inspire,  when  he 
commands  a  parent  to  rear  up  his  children  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord. 


SERMON    XL  Ail  1 1. 

ON    THE    USE   AND   ABUSE    OF    THE 
WORLD. 

They  that  use  this  world  as  not  abusing  it. — I  Corinthians  vii.  verse  31. 

If  we  attend  to  the  general  tenour  of  the  language  of  our 
blessed  Saviour  and  his  disciples  upon  the  subject  of  worldly- 
pursuits,  it  is  quite  clear  that  their  object  was  not  to  abolish, 
but  to  regulate  them ;  not  to  persuade  mankind  that  they 
should  not  use  the  world,  but  that  they  should  so  use  it,  as 
not  to  abuse  it.  The  whole  of  life  of  course  cannot  be  passed 
in  the  fervour  of  prayer,  and  the  effusions  of  piety  ;  the  great- 
est part  must  be  spent  in  action,  and  to  act  we  must  have 
desires  sufficiently  strong  and  systematic  to  become  pursuits ; 
it  is  not  only  lawful  to  engage  in  worldly  pursuits,  but  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  do  so ;  without  them  righteousness  would 
be  fantastical  speculation  or  criminal  indolence ;  the  great 
points  for  consideration  are,  as  we  must  pursue  something, 
what  is  best  worth  the  pursuit?  what  are  those  objects  at 
which  a  wise  and  religious  man  may  fairly  aim  ?  how  may 
he  use  the  world  without  abusing  it  ?  Imperfect  as  all  its 
pleasures  are,  what  are  the  best  and  greatest  that  world  can 
afford  ?  For  I  repeat  again,  that  righteousness  cannot  con- 
sist in  neglecting  and  despising  everything  in  this  world,  but 
in  selecting  proper  objects  of  our  attention  ;  and  in  rendering 
even  those  proper  objects  subordinate  to  the  higher  considera- 
tions of  religion. 

It  has  been  ever  a  great  question  with  the  pious  and  the 
good,  what  degree  of  happiness  the  world  can  afford ;  the 
holy  Scriptures  call  it  the  valley  of  tears;  the  dark  shadow  of 
deatii  is  said  to  be  shed  over  it ;  all  things  have  been  deno- 
minated vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,  which  are  under  the 


328  ON  THE  USE  AND  ABUSE  OF  THE  WORLD. 

sun ;  but  these  melancholy  views  of  human  life  either  respect 
the  errors  of  life,  and  the  common  foolish  objects  of  our  am- 
bition, or  they  are  intended  to  contrast  the  brief,  fluctuating, 
and  half-satisfactory  joys  of  the  world,  with  a  perfect  and 
eternal  felicity.  It  is  still,  therefore,  true  that  there  are  some 
pursuits  which  will  probably  confer  happiness  upon  him, 
who,  at  the  same  time,  firmly  connects  this  world  with  that 
which  succeeds  it ;» such  happiness  is  not,  to  be  sure,  con- 
summate and  certain,  but  it  is  highly  probable,  and  very  im- 
portant. 

I  will,  therefore,  expatiate  upon  the  methods  of  using  the 
world,  without  abusing  it,  and  enumerate  those  objects  which 
are  truly  worthy  of  a  wise  man's  best  exertions. 

The  first  rule  for  using  the  world  is,  to  live  in  it  with  a 
clear  conscience,  without  the  startings  and  trembling  of  guilt ; 
in  innocence,  openness,  and  decent  freedom;  this  is  the  basis 
of  happiness,  the  rock  on  which  the  house  is  reared.  What- 
ever be  our  external  condition,  if  there  is  not  a  perfect  clear- 
ness within  from  all  great  and  atrocious  sin,  life  is  but  a  load 
of  anguish,  and  the  greatest  man  breathing,  a  wretch  who 
would  gain  by  exchanging  his  existence  with  the  lowest  of 
human  beings. 

This  obvious  point  of  a  good  conscience  disposed  of,  the 
world  is  to  be  used,  and  not  abused,  with  regard  to  wealth ; 
and  this  is  not  so  easy  a  point  to  adjust ;  it  may,  however,  be 
stated  (I  think)  with  safety,  that  a  wise  and  religious  man 
may  strive  to  obtain  that  middle  station  of  opulence  which 
places  him  above  contempt,  and  below  envy ;  which,  while 
it  shelters  him  from  that  unfortunate  ridicule  which  is  too 
often  the  lot  of  poverty,  neither  affords  the  opportunity,  nor 
encourages  the  disposition  to  exercise  a  depraved  superiority 
over  his  fellow-creatures ;  beyond  this,  riches  are  not  an  evil 
if  they  come,  but  they  are  not  a  good  worth  the  toil  of  pur- 
suit. The  state  of  enjoyment  which  one  degree  of  wealth 
afTords  over  another,  soon  becomes  habitual ;  what  is  sump- 
tuous fare  to  one,  is  daily  food  to  another;  and  your  luxuries 
are  the  common  enjoyments  of  some  man  greater  than  you. 
The  proportion  between  an  ordinary  state  and  an  unusual 
gratification  is  the  same  in  all,  though  each  class  in  life  posi- 
tively sets  out  from  a  different  degree  in  the  scale ;  from  which 
of  those  degrees  it  is  our  lot  to  begin  our  career,  is  a  circum- 
stance perfectly  immaterial  to  happiness ;  the  abuse  of  the 
world  is  to  eat  forever  the  bread  of  carefulness ;  to  come  late 
to  rest,  to  rise  up  early,  to  add  vineyard  to  vineyard,  and  field 


ON  THE  USE  AND  ABUSE  OF  THE  WORLD.  329 

to  field,  till  there  is  no  one  (as  the  Scriptures  say),  left  upon 
the  earth ;  to  hoard  up,  and  to  gather  into  garners,  as  if  we 
were  to  equal  the  rocks  and  hills  in  duration ;  and  were  to 
remain  here,  till  the  heavens  themselves  had  waxed  old,  and 
were  rolled  up  like  a  garment,  and  changed  as  a  vesture  is 
changed. 

To  use  the  world  aright,  there  must  be  a  vigorous  employ- 
ment of  time,  a  great  and  absorbing  occupation  to  prevent  the 
temptation  and  dispel  the  melancholy  of  idleness.  The  effects 
of  inactivity  make  the  intentions  of  Almighty  Grod  clear  as 
they  regard  the  destiny  of  man ;  for  to  do  nothing  is  so  horri- 
ble, that  we  are  often  compelled  to  do  harm  to  avoid  it ;  and 
sin  becomes  the  natural  resource  of  indolence.  The  want  of 
occupation  gives  birth  too  to  that  anticipation  of  evil,  those 
-dismal  views  into  futurity,  which  occasion  much  more  un- 
happiness  than  the  evils  themselves  when  they  do  occur. 
An  occupied  man  has  no  leisure  for  counterfeit  misfortune  ; 
an  inward  impulse  hurries  him  on  through  little  doubts,  jea- 
lousies, suspicions,  and  distant  fears,  and  keeps  him  ever 
cheerful,  and  ever  serene ;  an  evil  which  is  not  come,  he 
thinks  may  not  come ;  if  its  approach  is  certain,  he  does  not 
magnify  its  degree ;  life  receives  in  him  all  that  assistance 
from  sweetness  of  temperament,  harmony  of  disposition,  and 
wise  arrangement  of  thought,  which  their  ministry  can  pos- 
sibly supply;  and  though  there  are  of  course  many  evils 
which  do  not  depend  upon  our  method  of  judging  them,  yet 
there  are  many  others  which  may  be  magnified  into  serious 
misfortunes,  or  will  subside  into  insignificant  trifles  according 
to  the  tenour  of  that  disposition  upon  which  they  fall.  All 
these  advantages  are  gained  by  a  full  and  active  occupation 
of  time ;  without  which  it  is  hardly  possible  to  enjoy  much 
of  innocence,  dignity,  or  happiness  in  this  life,  or  to  use  the 
world  without  abusing  it. 

Another  great  ingredient  for  the  increase  of  happiness 
and  the  proper  use  of  life,  is  the  cultivation  of  kindness  and 
benevolence ;  nothing  can  be  more  worthy  the  exertions  of  a 
wise  man  than  this  discipline,  or  so  likely  to  reconcile  him 
to  the  world  for  the  short  period  in  which  he  remains  in  it; 
the  lowest  degree  of  it  consists  in  avoiding  all  just  cause  for 
offence ;  no  callous  indifference  to  other  men's  feelings ;  no 
belief  that  strength  or  greatness  of  mind  is  evinced  by  con- 
tempt of  the  little  niceties  which  inflict  pleasure  and  pain; 
rio  superiority  founded  on  that  unchristian  asperity  which 

3b* 


330  ON  THE  USE  AND  ABUSE  OF  THE  WORLD. 

any  man  can  assume  who  is  sufficiently  devoid  of  delicacy 
and  shame  to  do  so ;  but  a  firm  conviction  and  a  perfect  re- 
collection that  all  men  have  as  much  right  to  be  happy  as 
ourselves ;  and  an  earnest  desire  to  study  and  respect  their 
feelings  in  the  most  minute  parts  of  Hfe,  so  that  no  man  may 
know,  on  our  account,  one  moment  of  pain  which  a  deliberate 
sense  of  duty  does  not  compel  us  to  inflict :  but  these  are 
narrow  hmits  for  the  feehngs  of  kindness  ;  a  wise  man  will 
not  only  please  by  not  offending,  but  please  by  positive  efforts 
to  comply  (so  far  as  sincerity  and  innocence  permit),  with 
the  leading  notions  and  prevaihng  systems  of  those  with 
whom  he  lives,  so  as  to  be  a  perpetual  source  of  satisfaction 
to  his  little  portion  of  the  world,  and  to  contribute  his  efforts 
to  gladden  and  to  embellish  human  intercourse.  It  is  possi- 
ble for  any  man  in  time  to  teach  himself  the  strongest  sym- 
pathy with  the  happiness  of  others,  however  distant  and 
unknown ;  so  that  every  blessing  which  it  pleases  Almighty 
God  to  vouchsafe  to  the  children  of  men,  the  sick  rescued 
from  death ;  the  poor  defended  from  oppression ;  the  good 
rewarded;  an  injured  nation  victorious  over  its  powerful  ene- 
mies ;  any  history  of  joy,  any  page  out  of  the  annals  of  hap- 
piness, may  bring  with  it  its  tribute  of  calm  and  placid  satis- 
faction. These  habits  of  benevolence  necessarily  procure  not 
only  general  good  will,  but  raise  up  by  degrees  the  blessings 
of  friendship,  the  shield  and  ornament  of  hfe  ;  and  if  there  is 
any  worldly  thing  worth  the  notice  of  a  religious  mind,  it  is 
to  be  cared  for  by  good  and  upright  men ;  to  feel  that  you 
have  endeared  yourself  to  those  who  have  sagacity  to  discern 
what  you  really  are,  and  to  compare  you  with  the  rest  of  the 
world ;  to  enjoy  that  noble  proof,  that  your  struggles  for  right- 
eousness have  not  been  fruitless,  or  your  efforts  to  meliorate 
your  fallen  nature  quite  in  vain  ;  that  you  have  some  value, 
some  attraction,  some  source  of  conciliation,  some  little  portion 
of  good ;  that  you  are  not  quite  left  alone  and  abandoned  in 
the  wilderness  of  hfe.  This  is  one  of  the  greatest  goods  the 
world  affords,  and  I  wish  most  forcibly  to  impress  upon  the 
younger  part  of  my  congregation,  that  the  friendship  of  just, 
able,  and  pious  men,  is  the  highest  prize  they  can  obtain ; 
the  most  signal  blessing  which  God  bestows  ;  the  soundest 
proof  of  having  done  well ;  the  best  security  for  doing  well ; 
the  highest  human  barrier  against  all  sordid  impurities  and 
base  comphances ;  the  greatest  comfort  and  hope  and  embel- 
lishment of  life. 


ON  THE  USE  AND  ABUSE  OF  THE  WORLD.  331 

The  world  may  be  said  to  be  used  without  abuse,  when  a 
portion  of  hfe  is  dedicated  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge ;  to 
discover  more  of  truth,  and  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
the  propesties  and  relations  of  those  objects  by  which  we  are 
surrounded,  promotes  the  happiness  of  others,  while  it  secures 
or  increases  our  own  ;  to  see  what  this  world  is  in  which  we 
are  placed,  to  investigate  the  curious  attributes  of  each  object 
it  contains,  seems  to  be  a  life  agreeable  to  that  Providence 
which  has  placed  us  in  the  midst  of  wfj^ders,  and  roused  us  by 
inward  feelings  to  their  contemplation.  The  love  of  knowledge 
may  be  fairly  and  religiously  indulged  from  an  experience  of 
the  beneficial  effects  which  it  produces  upon  human  happiness, 
from  remembering  that  the  sick  are  healed  by  knowledge,  the 
hungry  fed  fcy  it;  the  blessings  of  nature  generally  diffused  and 
equally  divided  by  it ;  the  appetites  and  passions  of  mankind, 
arranged  in  civil  institutions  by  knowledge ;  and  all  the  powers 
of  matter,  turned  from  the  destruction  of  the  human  race,  to 
their  use  and  convenience.  The  most  zealous  Christian  of  us 
all,  in  cultivating  human  knowledge,  will  find  the  amplest 
occasions  for  carrying  into  effect  all  its  provisions  of  benevo- 
lence ;  it  will  add  power  to  his  charity,  and  give  to  him  those 
enlightened  views  and  strengthened  faculties  which  confer 
wisdom  and  skill  in  doing  good  ;  besides,  too,  though  life  is  a 
moment  compared  with  eternity,  it  brings  with  it  many 
weary,  weighing  hours,  which  are  best  lightened  by  the 
varied  and  inexhaustible  resources  of  knowledge;  by  its 
exuberance  of  images ;  by  its  fertility  of  thought,  and  the 
busy  inward  world  which  it  makes  within  the  breast ;  a  man 
is  not  saved  by  knowledge,  and  if  he  is  puffed  up  with  it,  it 
is  laughter  and  lightness  before  God ;  but  we  must  use  the 
world  in  some  way  while  we  are  in  this  place  of  sojourning; 
we  must  do  the  best  that  the  temporary  nature  intrusted  to  us 
seems  to  indicate  ;  and  there  is  nothing  better  which  we  can 
do,  than  to  love  that  which  is  always  the  guardian  of  inno- 
cence, the  friend  of  true  religion,  and  the  handmaid  of  labori- 
qas  virtue. 

The  last  point  which  I  shall  state  as  conducive  to  happiness 
and  as  using  the  world  aright,  is  a  moderate  and  temperate 
enjoyment  of  the  praises  of  our  fellow-creatures ;  not  that 
human  praise  is  ever  to  be  a  motive  for  action  ;  the  love  of 
Christ  and  sincere  faith  in  his  holy  name,  are  the  only  lawful 
and  religious  motive  for  human  actions ;  but  when  we  have 
acted  from  these  motives  ;  when,  in  compliance  with  the  pre- 


332  ON  THE  USE  AND  ABUSE  OF  THE  WORLD. 

cepts  of  the  Gospel,  we  have  dedicated  a  great  part  of  exist- 
ence to  the  good  of  mankind,  then  if  praise  does  come,  it  is  a 
pure  joy  of  hfe ;  if  all  men  say  vvith  one  accord,  we  have 
ever  beheld  in  you  the  beautiful  signs  of  mercy  and  compas- 
sion ;  we  have  long  seen  you  forgetful  of  yourself,  labouring 
even  for  those  who  could  never  know  the  author  of  their  hap- 
piness, giving  up  day  after  day,  and  year  after  year,  to  plans 
of  benevolent  wisdom  and  exalted  goodness ;  if  all  this  bursts 
in  upon  a  human  beinp^  and  moves  the  springs  of  his  heart 
with  joy,  his  Saviour  does  not  call  upon  him  to  hear  with 
coldness  the  overflowing  gratitude  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood; 
his  pleasure  is  lawful,  and  there  is  joy  in  heaven  itself  over 
the  tenderness  and  the  happiness  of  the  world. 

This,  then,  it  is  to  use  the  world  and  not  a6ws^it ;  at  these 
solemn  seasons  of  humiliation  and  review,  it  is  our  duty  to 
direct  aright  the  objects  of  human  ambition,  to  reclaim  man- 
kind from  the  paths  of  sin  and  death,  and  to  prevent  them 
from  losing  that  trifling  portion  of  good  which  this  world  is 
able  to  supply;  a  conscience  clear  of  crime,  a  moderate  com- 
petence of  wealth,  the  soul  of  charity  and  brotherly  love  ;  a 
thirst  for  knowledge  ;  a  fair  distinction  among  men,  earned  by 
a  life  of  zealous  and  enhghtened  benevolence ;  this  is  the 
frame  and  tenour  of  mind,  in  which,  (if  I  could)  I  would  live 
my  short  hour  on  the  stage  of  hfe  ;  and  in  this  manner,  would 
I  least  tremble  to  meet  my  Redeemer  and  my  Judge.  How 
is  it  that  men  do  use  the  world  ?  Too  often  for  gain ;  too  often 
for  conquest ;  too  often  for  inordinate  vanity ;  for  sensual 
pleasure  ;  for  palaces  built  by  crimes  ;  for  trophies  reared  by 
cruelties  ;  for  bad  joys  gained  by  breaking  mens'  hearts,  and 
by  grinding  them  to  the  dust ;  in  this  way  we  seek  for  hap- 
piness, where  no  happiness  is  to  be  found,  mistaking  and 
forgetting  the  boon  of  God  ;  for  the  Almighty  has  vouchsafed 
to  us  here,  a  little  portion  of  joy  to  comfort  us  in  this  time  of 
our  pilgrimage,  and  to  charm  our  pained  steps  over  the  soil 
of  life  ;  yet  that  pleasure  is  quiet,  modest,  unassuming,  evan- 
gelical, coming  from  a  good  heart,  tender  to  all  men,  humbled 
before  God,  using  the  world,  not  abusing  it,  waiting  day  an^ 
night,  in  all  faith,  and  all  humility,  and  resignation,  for  the 
coming  of  Christ. 


SERMON    XLIX. 
ON    THE    RESUERECTION 


If  Christ  be  not  risen  then  is  our  preaching  vain,  and  your  faith  is  also  vain. 
First  Book  of  Cokinthians  xv.  verse  14. 

*  The  history  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ  is  one  of  the 
most  valuable  parts  of  the  Christian  evidence  ;  not  that,  as  a 
miracle,  the  resurrection  is  to  be  accounted  a  more  decisive 
proof  of  supernatural  agency  than  any  other  miracle ;  not 
that,  as  it  stands,  it  is  better  attested  than  many  others  ;  but 
that  it  is  completely  certain,  that  the  apostles  of  Christ  and  the 
first  teachers  of  Christianity  asserted  the  fact;  and  this  would 
have  been  equally  certain  if  the  four  Gospels  had  been  lost  or 
never  written ;  every  piece  of  Scripture  recognizes  the  resur- 
rection ;  every  epistle  of  every  apostle  ;  every  author  co- 
temporary  with  the  apostles ;  of  the  age  immediately  succeed- 
ing the  apostles  ;  every  writing,  from  that  age  to  the  present, 
genuine  or  spurious,  on  the  side  of  Christianity,  or  against  it, 
concur  in  representing  the  resurrection  of  Christ  as  an  article 
of  his  history  received  without  doubt  by  all  who  called  them- 
selves Christians,  alleged  from  the  beginning  by  the  propa- 
gators of  the  institution,  and  alleged  as  the  centre  of  their 
testimony.  Nothing  which  a  man  does  not  himself  hear  or 
see  can  be  more  certain  than  that  the  apostles  and  first  teachers 
of  Christianity  gave  out  that  Jesus  had  risen  from  the  dead ; 
in  the  other  parts  of  the  Gospel  narrative,  a  question  may  be 
made  by  infidels  whether  the  things  related  of  Christ  be  the 
very  things  which  the  apostles  and  first  teachers  of  the  religion 
delivered  concerning  him  ?  And  this  question  depends  a  good 
deal  upon  the  evidence  we  possess  of  the  genuineness,  the 

•  The  greater  part  of  the  arguments  in  this  sermon,  and  in  the  sermon 
on  the  Nature  of  Christianity ,  are  taiten  from  Paley's  Evidence. 


--A 


334  ON  THE  RESURRECTION. 

antiquity,  the  credit,  and  the  reception  of  the  books ;  upon 
the  subject  of  the  resurrection,  no  such  discussion  is  necessary, 
because  no  such  doubt  is  entertained ;  whatever  else  is  certain 
of  the  resurrection,  it  is  qidte  certain,  that  it  was  outwardly 
asserted  to  be  true  by  the  disciples  of  Christ ;  and  the  only 
points  which  can  enter  into  our  consideration  are,  whether  the 
apostles  knowingly  published  a  falsehood,  or  whether  they 
were  themselves  deceived.  If  either  of  these  suppositions  is 
possible,  or  highly  probable,  the  resurrection  of  our  Saviour 
cannot  be  considered  as  that  strong  evidence  of  the  truth  of 
Christianity  which  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel  have  always 
represented  it  to  be. 

The  supposition  of  fraud  (after  a  considerable  trial  of  its 
efficacy),is,  I  believe,  pretty  generally  given  up  by  the  enemies 
of  the  Gospel ;  the  nature  of  the  undertaking,  and  of  the 
men  ;  the  vast  improbability  that  such  men  should  engage  in 
such  a  measure,  as  a  scheme  ;  their  personal  toils,  dangers, 
and  sufferings  in  the  cause ;  their  appropriation  of  their  whole 
time  to  the  object ;  the  warm,  and  seemingly  unaffected  zeal 
with  which  they  profess  their  sincerity,  exempt  their  memory 
from  the  suspicion  of  imposture  ;  their  conduct,  as  preachers 
of  the  Gospel,  was  disinterested,  noble  and  generous  ;  they 
quitted  house,  land,  occupation,  friend,  kindred,  parent,  wives, 
children,  country — every  pursuit,  and  jevery  endearment  of 
life,  to  propagate,  with  infinite  labour,  through  innumerable 
difficulties  and  dangers,  the  salvation  of  mankind,  certain  of 
meeting,  in  every  new  region,  with  new  enemies,  and  yet 
requiring  of  those  who,  through  their  preaching,  were  become 
friends  and  brethren,  nothing  but  a  bare  subsistence,  and 
sometimes  labouring  even  with  their  own  hands,  to  save  them 
from  that  light  and  reasonable  burthen ;  disclaiming  for 
themselves  all  authority,  pre-eminence  and  power,  and  teach- 
ing that  savage  people,  who  took  them  for  gods,  that  they 
were  men  like  themselves,  and  servants  of  that  Being,  to  whom 
alone  worship  was  due. 

It  is  related  in  the  history,  what  indeed  the  story  of  the 
resurrection  necessarily  implies,  that  the  body  was  missed 
out  of  the  sepulchre ;  it  is  related  also  in  the  history,  that  the 
Jews  reported  the  followers  of  Christ  to  have  stolen  it  away ; 
but  says  St.  Paul,  Christ  did  rise  from  the  dead ;  he  was 
seen  of  Cephas  ;  then  of  the  twelve  ;  then  of  five  hundred 
brethren,  of  whom  the  greater  part  are  still  alive ;  then  of 
James ;  then  of  the  apostles  ;  last,  he  was  seen  of  me  also,  as 


ON  THE  RESURRECTION.  335 

of  one  born  out  of  due  time.  Now  it  is  plain,  whatever  fraud 
there  was,  St.  Paul  concurred  in  it ;  he  combined  with  others 
for  the  promotion  of  a  shameless  falsehood  ;  and  at  the  very 
moment  that  he  was  preaching  Christ  as  the  Son  of  God,  he 
must  have  known,  that  the  promises  of  Christ's  re-appearance 
w^ere  completely  frustrated,  and  every  hope  which  had  hitherto 
supported  the  courage  of  his  disciples,  dissolved  into  air. 
Yet  this  was  the  man  who  was  in  labours  more  abundant,  in 
stripes  above  measure,  in  prisons  more  frequent,  in  deaths 
often  ;  thrice  was  this  man  beaten  with  rods ;  once  was  he 
stoned  ;  three  times  did  he  suffer  shipwreck  ;  a  night,  and  a 
day,  was  he  in  the  deep ;  God  (he  declares)  had  sent  forth 
the  apostles,  appointed  unto  death ;  we  are,  says  he,  a  spec- 
tacle to  the  world:  even  unto  this  present  hour,  we  both  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  and  are  naked  and  beaten,  and  have  no  certain 
dwelling-place,  and  labour,  working  with  our  own  hands  ; 
being  reviled,  we  bless  ;  being  persecuted,  we  suffer  it;  being 
defamed,  we  entreat ;  we  are  made  the  filth  of  the  world,  and 
the  refuse  of  all  things,  unto  this  day.  This  is  one  of  those 
who  deceived  the  world  with  the  story  of  Christ's  resurrection 
from  the  dead,  and  these  the  splendid  objects  which  he  pro- 
posed to  himself,  by  that  deception. 

I  will  produce  only  one  more  instance  of  his  simple  and 
heroic  courage  in  support  of  his  imposture.  It  was  necessary 
for  the  good  of  the  church,  that  St.  Paul  should  go  to  Jeru- 
salem ;  and  this,  at  a  time,  when  it  was  quite  certain,  from 
the  various  accounts  brought  from  that  city,  that  his  destruc- 
tion was  intended  ;  his  disciples  are  so  much  alarmed  by  the 
magnitude  of  his  danger,  that  they  beseech  him  not  to  go  ; 
this  is  his  answer,  and  in  that  answer,  I  request  you  to  ex- 
amine with  all  diligence,  for  those  symptoms  of  false  and 
perjured  imposture  with  which  he  is  charged  by  his  enemies. 
**  What  mean  you,  (he  says,)  to  weep  and  break  my  heart, 
for  I  am  ready,  not  to  be  bound  only,  but  to  die  at  Jerusalem 
for  the  name  of  Jesus.  I  go,  not  knowing  the  things  that 
shall  befal  me  there,  save  that  the  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in 
every  city  that  bonds  and  afflictions  abide  me  ;  but  none  of 
these  things  move  me,  neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  my- 
self, so  that  I  might  finish  my  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry 
which  1  have  received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  Gos- 
pel of  the  grace  of  God.  I  know  that  ye  all,  among  whom  I 
have  gone  preaching  the  kingdom  of  God,  shall  see  my  face 
no  more,  wherefore  I  take  ycu  all  to  record,  that  I  am  innocent 


336  ON  THE  RESURRECTION. 

of  the  blood  of  all  men  ;  I  have  not  shunned  to  declare  unto 
you  all  the  counsel  of  God ;  neither  for  the  space  of  three 
years,  have  I  ceased  to  warn  every  one,  night  and  day,  with 
tears.  I  have  coveted  no  man's  silver,  or  gold,  or  apparel. 
Ye  yourselves  know  that  these  hands  have  often  ministered 
to  my  necessities,  and  to  them  that  were  with  me  ;  I  have 
showed  you  that  ye  ought  to  support  the  weak,  remembering 
the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said,  it  is  more  blessed 
to  give  than  to  receive  ;"  and  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  they 
all  wept,  sorrowing  for  the  words  which  he  spake,  that  they 
should  see  his  face  no  more  ;  he  did  go  to  Jerusalem,  he  was 
imprisoned,  and  beaten  with  rods  ;  his  speech  declares  his 
former  sufferings,  which  we  know  from  other  sources  to  be 
true  ;  his  subsequent  misfortunes  were  as  great,  his  whole 
life  was  a  continued  series  of  affliction  and  persecution,  not 
accidentally  incurred,  but  clearly  foreseen,  bravely  met,  and 
patiently  endured ;  bravely  met,  and  patiently  endured,  be- 
cause he  had  seen  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  was  by  that 
miracle  convinced  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God ;  if  not,  where 
in  any  human  history  is  there  any  conduct  similar  to  that 
evinced  by  the  apostles  ?  in  the  ten  thousand  frauds  which 
have  been  exercised  in  the  world,  where  is  there  any  parallel 
to  this  ?  If  Christ  did  not  rise  from  the  dead,  their  preaching 
was  vain,  and  they  knew  it  to  be  vain  ;  why  then  did  they 
die  for  it  ?  why  did  they  live  in  misery  for  it  ?  why  did  they 
persevere  in  it,  not  in  the  jfirst  warm  and  faithful  moment  of 
conspiracy,  but  after  years,  after  separation  in  different  cor- 
ners of  the  earth?  (Questioned  by  different  tribunals,  awed  by 
different  kings,  these  poor  martyrs  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
all  said,  Jesus  had  risen  from  the  grave  ;  that  they  had  seen 
him  ;  that  he  was  their  God  ;  that  they  would  never  disown 
him,  for  he  would  give  them  immortal  life,  and  not  leave 
them  to  perish  in  the  grave  ;  and  for  what  temporal  purpose 
could  they  say  this  ?  To  preach  a  pure  and  enhghtened  mo- 
rahty.  A  number  of  uneducated  men,  all  concurring  in  a  most 
impudent  falsehood,  dedicating  their  lives  to  it,  suffering,  and 
perishing  for  it,  with  no  other  assignable  motive  than  to  make 
their  fellow-creatures  pious,  charitable  and  just!  Can  the 
whole  world  produce,  besides,  one  single  instance  of  so  fraud- 
ulent a  conspiracy,  for  the  mere  purposes  of  morahty  and 
benevolence  ?  The  friends  of  religion  are  surely  entitled  to 
observe,  in  such  an  opinion,  some  faint  symptoms  of  that 
credulity  so  frequently  and  so  unjustly  objected  to  them. 


ON  THE  RESURRECTION.  837 

Dismissing,  then,  this  supposition  of  fraud,  which  is  too 
extravagant  to  deserve  the  attention  bestowed  upon  it,  let  us 
consider  the  charge  of  enthusiasm  ;  let  us  suppose  that  the 
apostles,  thoroughly  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  the  resurrec- 
tion, were  deluded  by  their  own  heated  minds  ;  that  with 
them,  as  with  visionaries  in  general,  a  very  slight  proof, 
coinciding  with  their  enthusiastic  notions,  had  the  force  of 
perfect  conviction.  But  upon  the  supposition  of  enthusiasm, 
there  occur  two,  or  three  questions,  which  it  appears  to  be 
quite  impossible  to  answer:  Was  the  body  in  the  grave  ?  if  it 
was,  how  could  they  believe  Christ  to  be  risen  from  the  dead? 
if  it  was  not,  by  whom  was  it  removed  ?  If  we  admit,  upon 
the  concurrent  testimonies  of  all  the  histories,  so  much  of  the 
account  as  states  that  the  religion  of  Jesus  was  set  up  at 
Jerusalem,  and  set  up  with  asserting,  a  few  days  after  he  was 
buried,  his  resurrection  from  the  grave,  it  is  evident  the  Jews 
would  have  produced  it  as  the  shortest,  the  most  complete 
answer  to  the  whole  story ;  the  attempt  of  the  apostle  could 
not  have  survived  this  answer  for  a  single  instant.  If  we 
also  admit,  upon  the  authority  of  St.  Matthew,  that  the  Jews 
were  aware  of  the  expectations  of  Christ's  followers  that  he 
would  rise  again,  and  that  in  consequence  of  this  expectation, 
the  body  was  in  marked  and  public  custody,  this  argument 
is  of  still  greater  force.  Notwithstanding  their  precaution, 
when  the  story  of  Christ's  resurrection  came  forth  as  it  im- 
mediately did,  when  it  was  publicly  asserted  by  his  disciples, 
and  made  the  ground  and  basis  of  their  preaching  in  his 
name,  and  collecting  followers  to  his  rehgion,  the  Jews  had  not 
the  body  to  produce,  but  were  obliged  to  meet  the  testimony 
of  the  apostles  by  asserting  that  the  body  had  been  stolen  ;  a 
supposition  compatible  enough  with  fraud,  but  certainly  not 
with  enthusiasm.  The  very  circumstance  that  Christianity 
went  on  at  all,  that  it  did  not  completely  terminate  with  the 
death  of  our  Saviour,  is  at  once  a  decisive  proof  of  the  truth 
of  the  resurrection.  It  was  a  point  of  time  at  which  the  truth 
of  the  Christian  religion  was  brought  to  the  most  rigid  test, 
for  they  had  purposely  involved  it  with  this  supernatural  con- 
dition, that  the  great  author  and  founder  of  it  should  rise  again 
from  the  dead.  Why  was  this  added  if  their  religion  was 
not  true  ?  it  was  a  difficulty  which  hardly  any  falsehood  could 
overcome  ;  and  it  is  quite  impossible  to  conceive  why  it  was 
made  a  criterion  of  the  truth  of  a  spurious  religion  ;  but  as  it 
was  made  the  criterion  of  Christianity,  it  is  still  more  difficult 
3J> 


338  ON  THE  RESURRECTION. 

to  conceive,  why  it  was  not  seized  hold  of  by  the  inveterate 
enemies  of  Christianity,  finally  and  completely  to  exterminate 
it.  There  is  your  prophet  dead;  there  is  his  sepulchre  ;  there 
is  the  lifeless  body  of  him  who,  as  you  believe,  had  power  to 
call  the  dead  from  their  graves ;  he  saved  others,  himself  he 
cannot  save.  Such  an  answer  as  this  would  for  ever  have 
put  an  end  to  Christianity  ;  it  is  the  answer  which  incipient 
fanaticism  and  imposture  have  received,  in  every  century  of 
the  world,  and  which,  in  every  instance  with  which  we  are 
acquainted,  has  been  found  sufficiently  powerful  to  strangle 
them  in  their  birth.  If  these  means  were  never  used,  or  if 
being  used  they  were  powerless  against  the  faith;  if  that  faith 
grew  from  hour  to  hour  ;  if  it  was  propagated  by  men  who 
declared  themselves  wilhng,  and  who  evinced  themselves 
able  to  endure  every  earthly  affliction  for  Jesus  whom  they 
had  seen  rising  from  his  tomb  ;  if  that  faith  was  adopted,  not 
by  cold  hearts  at  distant  ages,  but  by  men  of  that  time,  who 
might  have  heard  the  groans  of  Jesus,  and  looked  upon  his 
blood  ;  if  the  voluptuous  Asiatic  yielded  up  to  it  the  pleasures 
of  the  flesh  ;  if  the  Roman  saw  that  his  chains  could  not  scare 
it,  nor  his  sceptre  rule  it,  nor  his  gods  thunder  it  away ;  if, 
curbing  every  lust,  and  inspiring  every  virtue,  it  crept  into 
all  men's  hearts,  and  the  earth  with  all  its  kingdoms,  princi- 
pahties  and  powers ;  and  prayed  aloud  to  the  mangled  Jesus; 
then,  indeed,  are  we  bound  to  beheve  that  the  grave  held  him 
not ;  then  we  are  sure  that  there  is  another  life  than  this  ;  that 
we  also  shall  rise  from  our  graves  to  glory  or  to  sorrow,  as  we 
have  gratefully  remembered  his  resurrection,  and  accurately 
imitated  his  life. 


SERMON   L. 

ON    SEDUCTION. 

The  way  of  the  wicked  seduceth  them. — Proverbs  xii.  verse  16. 

I  INTEND  in  my  present  discourse  to  treat  on  the  seduction 
of  the  lower  class  of  females  in  this  town ;  an  evil,  which  has 
arisen  to  a  very  alarming  height,  and  which  menaces,  with 
utter  corruption,  the  morals  of  one  of  the  best  and  wisest  na- 
tions in  Europe.  I  have  no  scruple  to  attribute  this  calamity 
to  the  profligacy  of  men  in  a  superior  situation  of  life,  and  to 
such  I  principally  mean  to  apply  my  observations  on  this 
subject. 

It  is  so  much  the  custom  to  confine  ourselves  to  generalities 
in  the  pulpit,  and  to  direct  the  force  of  evangelical  prohibition 
against  sin  in  general,  rather  than  any  particular  species  of 
it,  that  it  may  be  necessary  to  remind  you  how  much  we  gain 
in  precision,  and  how  much  we  communicate  of  interest  by  this 
abatement  of  dignity  and  circumscription.  The  reasoning 
which  applies  to  all  crimes,  acts  languidly  against  each  indi- 
vidual crime ;  it  does  not  paint  the  appropriate  baseness,  or 
echo  the  reproaches  of  the  heart. — Our  Saviour  has  signified 
to  us  his  commandments  clearly,  but  generally,  and  it  must 
therefore  be  our  care  to  point  them  at  the  fluctuating  vices 
of  the  times  ;  if  he  has  said,  do  no  evil,  and  love  thy  neighbour 
as  thyself,  it  is  our  duty  to  state  to  mankind  an  instance,  in 
which  they  are  guilty  of  an  irreparable  evil  to  their  fellow- 
creatures,  and  in  which  they  are  entailing  endless  destruction 
upon  the  most  unprotected  of  the  human  race. 

Among  the  far  greater  number  who  resort  here  for  the  pur- 
poses of  real  devotion,  there  may  be  a  few  who,  led  to  this 
sacred  place  by  habit,  or  a  principle  of  conformity,  would  be 
glad  to  convert  their  listlessness  into  mirth,  and  to  catch  from 


340  ON  SEDUCTION. 

my  lips  some  indiscretion,  which  would  justify  a  moment  of 
shallow  pleasantry  ;  this,  God  helping,  they  shall  not  do ;  but 
they  shall  hear  me  pleading  for  the  happiness  of  undefended 
women,  pouring  forth  for  all  this  church  their  honest  indig- 
nation, and  hurling  the  damnation  of  God  on  base,  brutal, 
sensual  seducers. 

First,  The  character  of  a  seducer  is  base  and  dishonourable ; 
if  deceit  is  banished  from  among  equals ;  if  the  conduct  of 
every  man  to  those  of  his  own  station  of  life,  should  be  marked 
by  veracity  and  good  faith ;  why  are  fallacy  and  falsehood 
justified,  because  they  are  exercised  by  talents  against  igno- 
rance, cunning  against  simplicity,  power  against  weakness, 
opulence  against  poverty  ?  No  man  ever  lured  a  wretched 
creature  to  her  ruin,  without  such  a  complication  of  infamous 
falsehoods  as  would  have  condemned  him  to  everlasting  in- 
famy, had  they  been  exercised  to  the  prejudice  of  any  one  in 
an  higher  scene  of  life ;  and  what  must  the  depravity  of  that 
man  be  who  has  no  other  criterion  of  what  he  shall  do,  or 
from  what  he  shall  abstain,  than  impunity  ?  who  has  no  love 
of  truth,  but  only  a  dread  of  the  infamy  consequent  upon 
falsehood  ?  and  who,  as  often  as  he  believes  that  the  eye  of  the 
world  is  not  turned  upon  him,  will  descend  to  the  meanest  lies 
to  gratify  the  foulest  vices  ?  A  seducer  of  this  class  owes  his 
escape  from  infamy  to  the  inconsistency  of  his  conduct  in  dif- 
ferent situations;  it  is  not  believed  by  the  better  half  of  the  world, 
that  a  man  of  unimpeached  integrity  in  his  own  walk  of  life, 
who  never  deviates  from  truth,  and  who  would  repel,  at  the 
risk  of  his  life,  the  imputation  of  falsehood,  it  is  not  believed 
that  such  a  man  can  stoop  to  the  most  disgraceful  subterfuge 
Avhere  he  has  no  equal  to  awe  him  into  better  faith ;  and  that 
his  real  object  is  to  unite  the  gratifications  of  vice  to  the  con- 
venience arising  from  the  reputation  for  moral  worth. — What 
a  dignified  occupation  this,  for  a  gentleman,  a  scholar  and  a 
Christian,  to  blind  the  understanding  of  an  ignorant  creature 
with  specious  sophistry,  to  inflame  her  vanity,  to  weaken  her 
distinctions  between  right  and  wrong ;  to  give  her  a  distaste 
for  honest  industry,  and  to  lead  her,  by  imperceptible  grada- 
tions, to  guilt,  to  ruin  and  to  sorrow ;  how  must  such  a  man 
despise  himself  in  the  midst  of  all  his  artifices  ?  What  shame 
must  he  feel,  to  find  himself  scattering  the  principles  of  vice 
and  misery,  and  breaking  down  every  barrier  which  the  good 
and  wise  have  reared  against  the  passions  ?  What  human 
being,  not  arrived  at  the  last  stage  of  profligacy,  has  not  suf- 


ON  SEDUCTION. 


a^ 


fered  the  bitterest  reproaches  of  his  own  heart  for  these  crimes, 
and  envied  in  the  good,  the  safe  and  tranquil  feehngs  of  in- 
flexible virtue  ? 

The  friends  of  human  happiness  must  contrast  with  pain, 
the  hard-earned  progress  of  moral  order,  and  the  irresistible 
inroads  of  the  passions;  the  one  struggles  against  a  strong 
current,  where  a  momentary  remission  from  labour  loses  the 
space  which  a  long  toil  has  gained  ;  the  other  glides  down  a 
torrent  which  art  can  make  stronger,  though  nature  has  made 
it  impetuous.  The  more  we  contemplate  this  world,  the 
greater  does  the  necessity  appear  for  the  active  vigilance  of 
virtue  and  wisdom ;  it  has  cost  whole  ages  to  bring  the  earth 
to  its  present  appearance,  and  to  render  it  fit  for  culture  ;  mil- 
lions of  our  fathers,  now  dust  and  ashes,  chained  up  the  wild 
waters,  prevailed  over  the  furious  beasts,  rooted  up  the  forests, 
let  in  the  heat  and  hght  on  the  green  herb,  and  gave  shape 
and  plenty  to  that  which  was  without  form,  and  void  ;  in  a 
few  years  of  plague,  or  war,  the  creatures  of  the  forest  would 
resume  their  former  dominion,  and  the  earth  would  relapse 
into  its  ancient  horrid  silence  ;  so  with  our  minds  as  our  fields ; 
moral  law  and  government  have  been  built  under  the  revela- 
tion of  God,  by  the  arts,  the  eloquence  and  the  wisdom  of 
mighty  men ;  but  the  worst  and  lowest  of  human  beings  can 
destroy  them,  and  let  loose  from  their  prison  all  the  primitive 
horrors  of  savage  life;  these  are  melancholy  reflections,  and 
they  augment  the  painful  indignation  we  feel  at  seduction  ; 
it  is  not  for  the  miserable  victim  alone  we  grieve ;  but  for  the 
waste  of  parental  aftection;  the  fruitless  exertions  which  have 
been  bestowed  on  early  years,  to  infuse  into  an  human  mind 
the  love  of  virtue,  and  an  horror  of  every  evil  action ;  we 
sympathize  with  the  poor  industrious  parents  of  a  misguided 
child  more  than  if  her  seducer  had  robbed  them  of  their  pos- 
sessions ;  they  have  deprived  themselves  of  clothing  and  food, 
and  often  endured  the  cold,  and  made  their  meal  more  scanty, 
that  they  might  procure  for  this  child  the  blessing  of  a  little 
knowledge ;  it  appears  trifling  to  dwell  on  such  details,  but 
they  are  the  happiness  and  misery  of  milhons  of  humble  peo- 
ple; everybody  knows  the  anxiety  with  which  the  poorest 
people  send  forth,  for  the  first  time, a  daughter  into  the  world; 
the  efforts  which  they  make  to  supply  the  loss  of  her  natural 
protectors,  and  to  fortify  her  with  every  good  principle  which 
rustic  piety  and  prudence  could  suggest ;  perhaps  proud  of 
her  appearance  ;  perhaps  soothing  ihemselv^es  with  the  notion 

29* 


34^  ON  SEDUCTION. 

that  she  might  contribute  something  to  the  support  of  their 
dechning  years.  To  ruin  and  corrupt  this  innocence,  is  an 
outrage  which  the  levity  even  of  youth  cannot  carry  off  in 
ridicule ;  which  leaves  a  young  man  covered  with  infamy 
and  guih,  and  the  imputation  of  the  basest  cruelty.  With 
what  feehngs  can  he  face  the  just  indignations  of  those  into 
whose  humble  dwelling  he  has  carried  misery  and  tears ;  to 
whom  he  has  laid  open  the  prospect  of  beholding  their  daugh- 
ter the  wickedest  and  most  abandoned  of  human  creatures  ; 
whose  noble  pride  of  adorning  poverty  with  virtue,  he  has 
frustrated  and  mocked  ?  Is  it  to  be  borne,  that  the  welfare  of 
human  beings  should  be  thus  sported  with,  that  the  religious 
and  moral  principles  inspired  into  the  poor  with  such  difficult 
attention,  should  be  sacrificed  to  the  basest  passions  of  the 
vilest  men,  and  that  any  human  being  should  exercise,  un- 
punished, the  power  of  infusing  fresh  bitterness  into  the  cup 
of  poverty  ?  1  know  the  contempt  with  which  such  sort  of 
feehngs  are  apt  to  be  received ;  but  there  is  a  right  and  a 
wrong  in  human  affairs,  whose  irresistible  power  breaks 
through  every  barrier,  and  makes  the  heart  confess  while 
the  looks  defy  and  the  tongue  denies  ;  there  never  was  a 
libertine  whose  soul  did  not  sink  within  him  at  the  sight  of 
the  wretched  creature  whom  he  had  ruined,  who  did  not 
know,  that  he  was  followed  by  the  curses  and  the  condemna- 
tion of  every  upright  man,  and  that  the  vengeance  of  the  Al- 
mighty was  lowering  over  his  head. 

To  the  cruelty  of  seduction,  is  generally  added  the  base- 
ness of  abandoning  its  object,  of  leaving  to  perish  in  rags  and 
hunger,  a  miserable  being  bribed  by  promises  and  oaths  of 
eternal  protection  and  regard.  Now  let  us  be  just  even  to 
sinners  ;  just  do  I  say  ;  let  us  be  merciful  in  the  midst  of 
horror,  for  their  crimes  ;  let  us  fix  before  our  eyes  every  cir- 
cumstance that  can  extenuate  ;  let  us  place  by  the  side  of  the 
guilt  the  temptation,  and  try  them  as  we  hope  to  be  tried 
in  a  perilous  day,  by  the  Great  Judge  of  all ;  let  us  allow  all 
the  indulgence  to  youth  which  youth  can  require  ;  still  if  we 
excuse  the  errors,  we  have  a  right  to  expect  the  virtues  of 
that  period  of  life ;  if  the  accused  party  plead  the  perilous 
situation  in  which  he  is  placed,  and  seizes  on  all  the  palliation 
which  that  situation  can  supply,  we  have  a  right  at  least  to 
ask  if  he  has  done  all  the  good  which  that  .situation  prompted : 
a  man  may  say  that  his  youth  excuses  him  for  this  vice ;  but 
does  his  youth  prompt  him  to  starve  a  woman  he  has  ruined. 


ON  SEDUCTION.  343 

If  his  youth  made  him  susceptible  of  beauty,  did  it  also  make 
him  forgetful  of  weakness  ?  was  it  youth  that  taught  him  to 
fly  from  a  wretched  creature  for  fear  she  should  ask  him  for 
bread  ?  Does  youth  unite  fervour  with  meanness  ?  does  it, 
without  a  single  compensatory  virtue,  combine  its  own  vices 
with  the  vices  of  every  other  period  of  life  ?  is  it  at  once  violent, 
and  sordid,  avaricious  and  impassioned,  the  slave  of  every 
other  feehng,  and  the  master  of  generous  compassion  alone  ? 
This  is  not  youth  ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  origin  of  life  ; 
it  is  cold  and  callous  profligacy  began  in  brutal  passion,  fos- 
tered by  irreligion,  strengthened  by  association  with  bad  men, 
and  become  so  hardened,  that  it  laughs  at  the  misery  which 
it  creates. 

If  I  were  to  show  you  in  this  church  the  figure  of  a 
wretched  woman,  a  brutal,  shameless  creature  clothed  in  rags, 
pale  with  hunger  and  mouldering  with  disease ;  if  I  were  to 
tell  you  that  she  had  been  once  happy  and  once  good,  that 
she  once  had  that  chance  of  eternal  salvation  which  we  all 
have  this  day:  if  I  were  to  show  you  the  man  who  had 
doomed  her  to  misery  in  this  world,  and  to  hell  in  the  world 
to  come,  what  would  your  feelings  be  ?  But  if  I  were  to  tell 
you  that  the  constant  occupation  of  this  man  was  to  search 
for  innocence  and  to  ruin  it,  that  he  was  a  seducer  by  profes- 
sion, that  the  great  object  for  which  he  existed  was  to  gratify 
his  infamous  passions  at  every  expense  of  human  happiness ; 
would  you  not  say  that  his  life  was  too  bad  for  the  mercy  of 
God  ?  If  the  earth  was  to  yawn  for  him  as  it  yawned  for 
Dathan  and  Abiram,  is  there  one  eye  that  would  be  lifted 
up  to  ask  forgiveness  for  his  soul? 

The  crime  of  seduction  has  this  in  it  of  aggravaJ;ion  over 
other  crimes,  that  it  cannot  be  defended  under  any  of  the  in- 
genious systems  by  which  men  are  perpetually  vitiating  their 
understandings,  and  defending  the  painful  perspicuity  of  the 
law  of  Christ :  all  the  arrogance  of  theoretical  reasoners  upon 
morals  has  never  extended  so  far  as  to  assert  that  any  one 
human  being  has  the  right  to  make  others  as  miserable  as  he 
pleases ;  some  men  have  sided  with  Christ  and  some  with 
the  reasoners  of  this  world:  some  have  said  that  the  Deity 
was  everywhere,  and  that  he  guided  all ;  others  have  con- 
tended that  he  took  no  care  of  this  world ;  and  the  fool  has 
said  in  his  heart,  there  is  no  God ;  but  all  have  said,  it  is  bad 
to  rob  and  plunder;  all  have  taught  us  to  respect  human 
happiness ;  all  have  cursed  the  oppressor  and  the  maker  of 


344  ON  SEDUCTION. 

lamentations  and  tears;  this  load  of  solid  substantive  guilt 
no  human  ingenuity,  no  dissipation,  no  prosperity  can  shake 
off;  the  eternal  laws  of  nature  which  regulate  growth,  and 
motion,  and  decay,  have  fixed  also  the  everlasting  empire  of 
conscience ;  her  voice  you  shall  hear  in  the  time  of  sickness 
and  of  pain ;  it  shall  follow  you  to  the  bed  of  death ;  it  shall 
go  down  with  you  to  the  tomb ;  it  shall  rise  up  with  you  to 
the  resurrection ;  it  shall  descend  with  you  to  the  bottomless 
pit. 

I  would  not  wish  to  make  the  character  of  a  seducer  worse 
than  it  is,  perhaps  I  could  not  if  I  did  wish  ;  but  I  would 
ask  these  ruiners  of  the  lower  class  of  females,  if  a  great  part 
of  their  infamous  conduct  is  not  to  be  attributed  to  impunity? 
Does  it  never  come  into  their  minds,  in  the  course  of  their  dis- 
graceful, ungentlemanly  conduct,  that  they  have  nothing  to 
fear  from  the  sword  of  a  brother  or  a  father  pointed  at  their 
throats;  that  the  object  of  their  designs  is  without  protectors,  or 
with  protectors  of  so  low  a  stamp  that  their  indignation  would 
excite  ridicule  rather  than  apprehension;  put  this  kind  of  feel- 
ing into  language  and  see  what  it  means :  it  says  thus  to  a  fel- 
low-creature, I  know  you  are  poor,  and  because  you  are  poor 
you  are  helpless,  and  1  will  oppress  you  ;  from  your  indigna- 
tion at  the  ruin  of  your  child,  my  rank  protects  me,  and  I  may 
pretend  to  despise  what  I  should  fear  to  oppose ;  to  the  laws 
of  your  country  you  have  neither  wealth  nor  knowledge  to 
appeal,  and  your  illiterate  story  of  your  own  injuries  can 
never  attract  attention.  Is  there  any  human  being  who 
dares  openly  to  express  these  sentiments  ?  is  it  possible  to  view 
the  conduct  of  such  men  as  I  have  been  describing,  and  not 
be  convinced  that  by  such  sentiments  their  conduct  must  be 
swayed  ?  or  do  we  think  that  tenderness  to  the  reputation  of 
a  daughter  is  a  mere  refinement  of  education,  a  privilege,  or 
perhaps  a  weakness  of  opulence  and  rank?  if  so,  go  to  the 
meanest  of  human  beings  and  bargain  with  him  for  the  dis- 
honour of  his  child  ;  offer  to  him  ease  and  plenty  ;  if  this  will 
not  do,  bribe  him  with  all  that  luxury  can  give,  and  see  if 
the  proudest  monarch  would  repulse  you  with  fiercer  disdain 
and  more  decided  contempt. 

If  I  have  been  too  warm  in  my  animadversions  on  this 
crime,  ascribe  such  warmth  to  its  real  cause  ;  a  rooted  anxiety 
to  do  good.  The  conscience  of  young  men  is  seldom  so 
hardened  as  to  be  proof  against  remorse ;  they  are  seldom 
desperately  and  irrecoverably  wicked ;    but  while  they  do 


ON  SEDrCTION.  345 

wrong  they  repent,  and  their  lives  roll  on  to  maturity  amid 
the  gratifications  of  sin  and  the  bitterness  of  self-reproach ; 
how  blessed  is  he  above  his  fellows  who  arrives  at  the  middle 
period  of  human  existence  ungoaded  by  the  remembrance  of 
great  and  irreparable  crimes ;  for  whose  profligacy  no  child 
need  to  blush ;  on  whose  account  no  wretched  woman  sits  at  the 
gate  of  her  seducer  crying  for  bread.  Therefore,  on  account 
of  these  sad  things,  while  you  are  yet  young,  remember  the 
time  of  old  age  ;  remember  what  a  thing  it  is  to  destroy  puritj?- 
of  heart ; — and  if  you  do  chance  to  meet  with  an  innocent  and 
unprotected  woman  whom  you  might,  perhaps,  have  art 
enough  to  ruin  and  degrade,  hear  the  voice  of  compassion, 
and  lead  her  not  into  the  paths  of  death.  The  memory  of 
this  good  deed  shall  cheer  you  in  many  an  arduous  struggle ; 
shall  make  you  dear  to  your  own  soul ;  shall  give  you  the 
feehngs  of  angels  in  this  life,  and  their  rewards  in  a  life  to 
come. 


A  FRAGMENT 

ox  THE 

IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC 
CHURCH. 


PEEEACE. 


The  following  unrevised  fragment,  found  among  the 
papers  of  the  late  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  if  it  serve  no 
other  purpose,  will  at  least  prove  that  his  last,  as  well 
as  his  earliest  efforts,  were  exerted  for  the  promotion  of 
religious  freedom,  and  may  satisfy  those  who  have  ob- 
jected to  his  later  writings,  because  his  own  interest 
appeared  to  be  bound  up  with  his  opinions,  that  he  did 
not  hesitate  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life,  boldly  to  advo- 
cate what  he  considered  to  be  justice  to  others. 

April,  1845. 


30 


Pnvate  Memoranda  of  Subjects  intended  to  have  been  introduced  in 
the  Pamphlet,  Sfc. 

Debates  in  the  House  of  Commons  in  1825^  on  the  motion  of  Lord 
F.  Egerton,  for  the  support  of  the  Roiyian  Catholic  clergy.  Printed 
separately,  I  believe,  in  Ireland. 

Evidence  before  the  House  of  Commons  in  1824  and  1825,  includ- 
ing Doyle's. 

A  Speech  of  Charles  Grant's  in  1819,  on  a  motion  of  James  Daly 
to  enforce  the  Insurrection  Act. 

Debates  on  Maynooth,  in  February  last,  (1844.) 

Hard  case  of  the  priest's  first  year. 

Provision  offered  by  Pitt  and  Castlereagh,  and  accepted  by  the 
hierarchy. 

*  Send  ambassadors  to  Constantinople,  and  refuse  to  send  them  to 
Rome. 

England  should  cast  off  its  connection  with  the  Irish  Church. 
Lord  F.  Egerton's  plan  for  paying  the  Roman  Catholic  clergy  in 
1825.    The  prelates  agree  to  take  the  money. 

*  Old  mode  of  governing  by  Protestants  at  an  end. 

^  Vast  improvements  since  the  Union,  and  fully  specified  in  Mar- 
tin, page  35. 

*  Priests  dare  not  thwart  the  people,  for  fear  of  losing  money. 

*  Dreadful  oppression  of  the  people. 

*  Bishops  dare  not  enforce  their  rules.    They  must  have  money. 

*  These  subjects  are  treated  of  in  the  Fragment, 


A    FRAGMENT 

ON 


THE  IRISH  HOMAN   CATHOLIC 
CHURCH. 


The  revenue  of  the  Irish  Roman  Catholic  Church  is  made 
up  of  half-pence,  potatoes,  rags,  hones,  and  fragments  of  old 
clothes,  and  those  Irish  old  clothes.  They  worship  often  in 
hovels,  or  in  the  open  air,  from  the  want  of  any  place  of  wor- 
ship. Their  religion  is  the  religion  of  three-fourths  of  the 
population !  Not  far  off,  in  a  well-windowed  and  well-roofed 
house,  is  a  well-paid  Protestant  clergyman,  preaching  to  stools 
and  hassocks,  and  crying  in  the  wilderness ;  near  him  the 
clerk,  near  him  the  sexton,  near  him  the  sexton's  wife — furi- 
ous against  the  errors  of  Popery,  and  willing  to  lay  down 
their  lives  for  the  great  truths  established  at  the  Diet  of  Augs- 
burg. 

There  is  a  story  in  the  Leinster  family  which  passes  under 
the  name  of 

''''She  is  not  welV 

A  Protestant  clergyman,  whose  church  w£is  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, was  a  guest  at  the  house  of  that  upright  and  excellent 
man,  the  Duke  of  Leinster.  He  had  been  staying  there  three 
or  four  days ;  and  on  Saturday  night,  as  they  were  all  retiring 
to  their  rooms,  the  duke  said,  "  We  shall  meet  to-morrow  at 
breakfast." — "  Not  so  (said  our  Milesian  Protestant) ;  your 
hour,  my  lord,  is  a  little  too  late  for  me;  I  am  very  particular 
in  the  discharge  of  my  duty,  and  your  breakfast  will  inter- 
fere with  my  church."  The  duke  was  pleased  with  the  very 
proper  excuses  of  his  guest,  and  they  separated  for  the  night; 
— his  grace  perhaps  deeming  his  palace  more  safe  from  all 
the  evils  of  life  for  containing  in  its  bosom  such  an  exemplary 


352  A  FRAGMENT  ON  THE 

son  of  the  Church.  The  first  person,  however,  whom  the 
duke  saw  in  the  morning  upon  entering  the  breakfast-room 
was  our  punctual  Protestant,  deep  in  rolls  and  butter,  his  fin- 
ger in  an  egg^  and  a  large  slice  of  the  best  Tipperary  ham 
secured  on  his  plate.  "  Dehghted  to  see  you,  my  dear  vicar,'* 
said  the  duke ;  "  but  I  may  say  as  much  surprised  as  de- 
lighted."— "  Oh,  don't  you  know  what  has  happened?"  said 
the  sacred  breakfaster, — "sAe  is  not  well,'''' — "  Who  is  not 
well  ?"  said  the  duke  :  "  you  are  not  married — you  have  no 
sister  Hving— I'm  quite  uneasy  ;  tell  me  who  is  not  well." — 
"Why  the  fact  is,  my  lord  duke,  that  my  congregation  con- 
sists of  the  clerk,  the  sexton,  and  the  sexton's  wife.  Now  the 
sexton's  wife  is  in  very  delicate  health :  when  she  cannot 
attend,  we  cannot  muster  the  number  mentioned  in  the  rubric; 
and  we  have,  therefore,  no  service  on  that  day.  The  good 
woman  had  a  cold  and  sore  throat  this  morning,  and,  as  I  had 
breakfasted  but  sHghtly,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  hurry  back 
to  the  regular  family  dejeuner."  I  don't  know  that  the  clergy- 
man behaved  improperly ;  but  such  a  church  is  hardly  worth 
an  insurrection  and  civil  war  every  ten  years. 

Sir  Robert  did  well  in  fighting  it  out  with  O'Connell.  He 
was  too  late  ;  but  when  he  began  he  did  it  boldly  and  sensi- 
bly, and  I,  for  one,  am  heartily  glad  O'Connell  has  been  found 
guilty  and  imprisoned.  He  was  either  in  earnest  about  Re- 
peal or  he  was  not.  If  he  was  in  earnest,  I  entirely  agree 
with  Lord  Grey  and  Lord  Spencer,  that  civil  war  is  preferable 
to  Repeal.  Much  as  I  hate  wounds,  dangers,  privations,  and 
explosions — much  as  I  love  regular  hours  of  dinner — foolish 
as  I  think  men  'covered  with  the  feathers  of  the  male  Fullus 
domesticus,  and  covered  with  lace  in  the  course  of  the  ischia- 
tic  nerve — much  as  I  detest  all  these  follies  and  ferocities,  I 
would  rather  turn  soldier  myself  than  acquiesce  quietly  in 
such  a  separation  of  the  empire. 

It  is  such  a  piece  of  nonsense,  that  no  man  can  have  any 
reverence  for  himself  who  would  stop  to  discuss  such  a  ques- 
tion. It  is  such  a  piece  of  anti-British  villainy,  that  none  but 
the  bitterest  enemy  of  our  blood  and  people  could  entertain 
such  a  project!  It  is  to  be  met  only  with  round  and  grape — 
to  be  answered  by  Shrapnel  and  Congreve ;  to  be  discussed 
in  hollow  squares,  and  refuted  by  battalions  four  deep  ;  to  be 
put  down  by  the  ultima  ratio  of  that  armed  Aristotle,  the  Duke 
of  Wellington. 

O'Connell  is  released  ;  and  released  I  have  no  doubt  by  tho 


IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  353 

conscientious  decision  of  the  law  lords.  If  he  was  unjustly 
(even  from  some  technical  defect)  imprisoned,  I  rejoice  in  his 
liberation.  England  is,  I  believe,  the  only  country  in  the 
world  where  such  an  event  could  have  happened,  and  a  wise 
Irishman  (if  there  be  a  wise  Irishman)  should  be  slow  in 
separating  from  a  country  whose  spirit  can  produce,  and 
whose  institutions  can  admit,  of  such  a  result.  Of  his  guilt 
no  one  doubts,  but  guilty  men  must  be  hung  technically  and 
according  to  established  rules  ;  upon  a  statutable  gibbet,  with 
parliament  rope,  and  a  legal  hangman,  sheriff,  and  chaplain 
on  the  scaffold,  and  the  mob  in  the  foreground. 

But,  after  all,  I  have  no  desire  my  dear  Daniel  should  come 
to  any  harm,  for  I  believe  there  is  a  great  deal  of  virtue  and 
excellent  meaning  in  him,  and  I  must  now  beg  a  few  minutes 
conversation  with  him.  "After  all,  my  dear  Daniel,  what  is 
it  j^ou  want  ? — a  separation  of  the  two  countries  ? — for  what 
purpose  ? — for  your  own  aggrandizement  ? — for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  your  personal  vanity  ?  You  don't  know  yourself;  you 
are  much  too  honourable  and  moral  a  man,  and  too  clear- 
sighted a  person  for  such  a  business  as  this :  the  empire  will 
be  twisted  out  of  your  hands  by  a  set  of  cut-throat  villains, 
and  you  will  die  secretly  by  a  poisoned  potato,  or  be  pistoled 
in  the  streets.  You  have  too  much  sense,  and  taste,  and  open- 
ness, to  endure  for  a  session,  the  stupid  and  audacious 
wickedness  and  nonsense  of  your  associates.  If  you  want 
fame,  you  must  be  insatiable  !  Who  is  so  much  known  in 
all  Europe,  or  so  much  admired  by  honest  men  for  the  real 
good  you  had  done  to  your  country,  before  this  insane  cry  of 
Repeal  ?  And  don't  imagine  you  can  intimidate  this  govern- 
ment ;  whatever  be  their  faults  or  merits,  you  may  take  my 
word  for  it,  you  will  not  intimidate  them.  They  will  prose- 
cute you  again,  and  put  down  your  Clontarf  meetings,  and 
they  will  be  quite  right  in  doing  so.  They  may  make  con- 
cessions, and  I  think  they  will ;  but  they  would  fall  into  utter 
contempt,  if  they  allowed  themselves  to  be  terrified  into  a  dis- 
solution of  the  Union.  They  know  full  well  that  the  English 
nation  are  unanimous  and  resolute  upon  this  point,  and  that 
they  would  prefer  war  to  a  Repeal.  And  now,  dear  Daniel, 
sit  down  quietly  at  Derrynane,  and  tell  me,  when  the  bodily 
frame  is  refreshed  with  the  wine  of  Bordeaux,  whether  all 
this  is  worth  while.  What  is  the  object  of  all  government  ? 
The  object  of  ail  government  is  roast  mutton,  potatoes,  claret, 
a  stout  constable,  an  honest  justice,  a  clear  highway,  a  free 

30* 


354  A  FRAGMENT  ON  THE 

chapel.  What  trash  to  he  hawHng  in  the  streets  ahout  the 
Green  Isle,  the  Isle  of  the  Ocean  !  the  bold  anthem  of  £rin 
go  bragh  J  A  far  better  anthem  would  be  Erin  go  bread  and 
cheese,  Erin  go  cabins  that  will  keep  out  the  rain,  Erin  go 
pantaloons  without  holes  in  them  !  What  folly  to  be  making 
eternal  declamations  about  governing  yourselves  !  If  laws 
are  good  and  well  administered,  is  it  worth  while  to  rush  into 
war  and  rebellion,  in  order  that  no  better  laws  may  be  made 
in  another  place  ?  Are  you  an  Eton  boy,  who  has  just  come 
out,  full  of  Plutarch's  Lives,  and  considering  in  every  case 
how  Epaminondas  or  Philopcemen  would  have  acted,  or  are 
you  our  own  dear  Daniel,  drilled  in  all  the  business  and  bustle 
of  Hfe  ?  I  am  with  you  heart  and  soul  in  my  detestation  of  all 
injustice  done  to  Ireland.  Your  priests  shall  be  fed  and  paid, 
the  liberties  of  your  Church  be  scrupulously  guarded,  and  in 
civil  affairs  the  most  even  justice  be  preserved  between  Catho- 
lic and  Protestant.  Thus  far  I  am  a  thorough  rebel  as  weJl 
as  yourself;  but  when  you  come  to  the  perilous  nonsense  of 
Repeal,  in  common  with  every  honest  man  who  has  five  grains 
of  common  sense,  I  take  my  leave." 

It  is  entertaining  enough,  that  although  the  Irish  are  begin- 
ning to  be  so  clamorous  about  making  their  own  laws,  that 
the  wisest  and  the  best  statutes  in  the  books  have  been  made 
since  their  union  with  England.  All  Cathohc  disabihties 
have  been  abolished ;  a  good  police  has  been  established  all 
over  the  kingdom ;  public  courts  of  petty  sessions  have  been 
instituted ;  free  trade  between  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  has 
been  completely  carried  into  effect ;  lord  lieutenants  are  placed 
in  every  county;  church  rates  are  taken  off  CathoHc  shoulders; 
the  county  grand  jury  rooms  are  flung  open  to  the  pubhc ; 
county  surveyors  are  of  great  service ;  a  noble  provision  is 
made  for  educating  the  people.  I  never  saw  a  man  who  had 
returned  to  Ireland  after  four  or  five  years'  absence,  who  did 
not  say  how  much  it  had  improved,  and  how  fast  it  was  im- 
proving; and  this  is  the  country  which  is  to  be  Erin-go-bragh'd 
by  this  shallow,  vain,  and  irritable  people  into  bloodshed  and 
rebelHon ! 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  pay  the  priests,  and  after  a 
little  time  they  will  take  the  money.  One  man  wants  to  re- 
pair his  cottage  ;  another  wants  a  buggy;  a  third  cannot  shut 
his  eyes  to  the  dilapidations  of  a  cassock.  The  draft  is  pay- 
able at  sight  in  DubHn,  or  by  agents  in  the  next  market  town 
dependent  upon  the  commission  in  Dublin.   The  housekeeper 


IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  355 

of  the  holy  man  is  importunate  for  money,  and  if  it  is  not  pro- 
cured by  drawing  for  the  salary,  it  must  be  extorted  by  curses 
and  comminations  from  the  ragged  worshipers,  slowly,  sor- 
rowfully, and  sadly.  There  wiU  be  some  opposition  at  first, 
but  the  facility  of  getting  the  salary  without  the  violence  they 
are  now  forced  to  use,  and  the  difficulties  to  which  they  are 
exposed  in  procuring  the  payment  of  those  emoluments  to 
which  they  are  fairly  entitled,  will,  in  the  end,  overcome  all 
obstacles.  And  if  it  does  not  succeed,  what  harm  is  done  by 
the  attempt?  It  evinces  on  the  part  of  this  country  the 
strongest  disposition  to  do  what  is  just,  and  to  apply  the  best 
remedy  to  the  greatest  evil ;  but  the  very  attempt  would  do 
good,  and  would  be  felt  in  the  great  Catholic  insurrection, 
come  when  it  will.  All  rebellions  and  disaffections  are  gene- 
ral and  terrible  in  proportion  as  one  party  has  suffered,  and 
the  other  inflicted  ; — any  great  measure  of  conciliation,  pro- 
posed in  the  spirit  of  kindness,  is  remembered,  and  renders 
war  less  terrible,  and  opens  avenues  to  peace. 

The  Roman  Catholic  priest  could  not  refuse  to  draw  his 
salary  from  the  state  without  incurring  the  indignation  of  his 
flock.  "  Why  are  you  to  come  upon  us  for  all  this  money, 
when  you  can  ride  over  to  Sligo  or  Belfast,  and  draw  a  draft 
upon  government  for  the  amount  ?"  It  is  not  easy  to  give  a 
satisfactory  answer  to  this,  to  a  shrewd  man  who  is  starving 
to  death. 

Of  course,  in  talking  of  a  government  payment  to  the  Ca- 
tholic priest,  I  mean  it  should  be  done  with  the  utmost  fair- 
ness and  good  faith  ;  no  attempt  to  gain  patronage,  or  to 
make  use  of  the  pope  as  a  stalking-horse  for  playing  tricks. 
Leave  the  patronage  exactly  as  you  find  it ;  and  take  the 
greatest  possible  care  that  the  Cathohc  clergy  have  no  reason 
to  suspect  you  in  this  particular;  do  it  like  a  gentleman, 
without  shuffling  and  prevarication,  or  leave  it  alone  altogether. 

The  most  important  step  in  improvement  which  mankind 
ever  made,  was  the  secession  from  the  see  of  Rome,  and  the 
establishment  of  the  Protestant  religion ;  but  though  I  have 
the  sincerest  admiration  of  the  Protestant  faith,  I  have  no  ad- 
miration of  Protestant  hassocks  on  which  there  are  no  knees, 
nor  of  seats  on  which  there  is  no  superincumbent  Protestant 
pressure,  nor  of  whole  acres  of  tenantless  Protestant  pews,  in 
which  no  human  being  of  the  500  sects  of  Christians  is  ever 
seen.  I  have  no  passion  for  sacred  emptiness,  or  pious  va- 
cuity.    The  emoluments  of  those  hvings  in  which  there  are 


356  A  FRAGMENT  ON  THE 

few  or  no  Protestants,  ought,  after  the  death  of  the  present 
incumbents,  to  be  appropriated  in  part  to  the  uses  of  the  pre- 
dominant religion,  or  some  arrangements  made  for  superseding 
such  utterly  useless  ministers  immediately,  securing  to  them 
the  emoluments  they  possess. 

Can  any  honest  man  say,  that  in  parishes  (as  is  the  case 
frequently  in  Ireland)  containing  3000  or  4000  Catholics,  and 
40  or  50  Protestants,  there  is  the  smallest  chance  of  the  ma- 
jority being  converted  ?  Are  not  the  Cathohcs  (except  in  the 
North  of  Ireland,  where  the  great  mass  are  Presbyterians) 
gaining  everywhere  on  the  Protestants  ?  The  tithes-  were 
originally  possessed  by  the  Catholic  Church  of  Ireland.  Not 
one  shiUing  of  them  is  now  devoted  to  that  purpose.  An  im- 
mense majority  of  the  common  people  are  Catholics ;  they  see 
a  church  richly  supported  by  the  spoils  of  their  own  church 
estabhshments,  in  whose  tenets  not  one  tenth  part  of  the  peo- 
ple believe.  Is  it  possible  to  believe  this  can  endure  ? — that 
a  light,  irritable,  priest-ridden  people  will  not,  under  such 
circumstances,  always  remain  at  the  very  eve  of  rebeUion, 
always  ready  to  explode  when  the  finger  of  Daniel  touches 
the  hair  trigger  ? — for  Daniel,  be  it  said,  though  he  hates 
shedding  blood  in  small  quantities,  has  no  objection  to  provok- 
ing kindred  nations  to  war.  He  very  properly  objects  to 
killing  or  being  killed  by  Lord  Alvanley ;  but  would  urge  on^' 
ten  thousand  Pats  in  civil  combat  against  ten  thousand  Bulls. 
His  objections  are  to  small  homicides  ;  and  his  vow  that  he 
has  registered  in  Heaven  is  only  against  retail  destruction, 
and  murder  by  piecemeal.  He  does  not  like  to  teaze  Satan 
by  driblets  ;  but  to  earn  eternal  torments  by  persuading  eight 
million  Irish,  and  twelve  million  Britons  no  longer  to  buy 
and  sell  oats  and  salt  meat,  but  to  butcher  each  other  in  God's 
name  to  extermination.  And  what  if  Daniel  dies,  of  what 
use  his  death  ?  Does  Daniel  make  the  occasion,  or  does  the 
occasion  make  Daniel? — Daniels  are  made  by  the  bigotry 
and  insolence  of  England  to  Ireland  ;  and  till  the  monstrous 
abuses  of  the  Protestant  Church  in  that  country  are  rectified, 
there  will  always  be  Daniels,  and  they  will  always  come  out 
of  their  dens  more  powerful  and  more  popular  than  when 
you  cast  them  in. 

I  do  not  mean  by  this  unjustly  and  cowardly  to  run  down 
O'Connell.  He  has  been  of  eminent  service  to  his  country 
in  the  question  of  Catholic  Emancipation,  and  I  am  by  no 
means  satisfied  that  with  the  gratification  of  vanity  there  are 


IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  357 

not  mingled  genuine  feelings  of  patriotism  and  a  deep  sense 
of  the  injustice  done  to  his  country.  His  first  success,  how- 
ever, flung  him  off  his  guard ;  and  perhaps  he  trusted  too 
much  in  the  timidity  of  the  present  government,  who  are  by 
no  means  composed  of  irresolute  or  weak  men. 

If  I  thought  Ireland  quite  safe,  I  should  still  object  to  in- 
justice. I  could  never  endure  in  silence  that  the  CathoUc 
Church  of  Ireland  should  be  left  in  its  present  state ;  but  I 
am  afraid  France  and  England  can  now  afford  to  fight ;  and 
having  saved  a  little  money,  they  will,  of  course,  spend  it  in 
fighting.  That  puppy  of  the  waves,  young  Joinville,  will 
steam  over  in  a  high-pressure  fleet ! — and  then  comes  an  im- 
mense twenty  per  cent,  income-tax  war,  an  universal  insur- 
rection in  Ireland,  and  a  crisis  of  misery  and  distress,  in 
which  life  will  hardly  be  worth  having.  The  struggle  may 
end  in  our  favour,  but  it  may  not ;  and  the  object  of  political 
wisdom  is  to  avoid  these  struggles.  I  want  to  see  jolly  Roman 
Catholic  priests  secure  of  their  income  without  any  motive 
for  sedition  or  turbulence.  I  want  to  see  Patricks  at  the 
loom ;  cotton  and  silk  factories  springing  up  in  the  bogs  ;  Ire- 
land a  rich,  happy,  quiet  country ! — scribbhng,  carding, 
cleaning,  and  making  cahco,  as  if  mankind  had  only  a  few 
days  more  allotted  to  them  for  making  clothes,  and  were  ever 
after  to  remain  stark  naked. 

Remember  that  between  your  impending  and  your  past 
wars  with  Ireland,  there  is  this  remarkable  difference.  You 
have  given  up  your  Protestant  auxiliaries  ;  the  Protestants 
enjoyed  in  all  former  disputes  all  the  patronage  of  Ireland ;  they 
fought  not  only  from  rehgious  hatred,  but  to  preserve  their 
monopoly  ; — that  monopoly  is  gone;  you  have  been  candid  and 
just  for  thirty  years,  and  have  lost  those  friends  whose  swords 
were  always  ready  to  defend  the  partiality  of  the  government 
and  to  stifle  the  cry  of  justice.  The  next  war  will  not  be 
between  Catholic  and  Protestant,  but  between  Ireland  and 
England. 

I  have  some  belief  in  Sir  Robert.  He  is  a  man  of  great 
understanding,  and  must  see  that  this  eternal  O'Connelling 
will  never  do,  that  it  is  impossible  it  can  last.  We  are  in  a 
transition  state,  and  the  Tories  may  be  assured  that  the  ba- 
ronet will  not  go  too  fast.  If  Peel  tells  them  that  the  thing 
must  be  done,  they  may  be  sure  it  is  high  time  to  do  it ; — 
they  may  retreat  mournfully  and  sullenly  before  common 
justice  and  common  sense,  but  retreat  they  must  when  Tarn- 


358  A  FRAGMENT  ON  THE 

worth  gives  the  word,— and  in  quick-step  too,  and  without 
loss  of  time. 

And  let  me  beg  of  my  dear  Ultras  not  to  imagine  that  they 
survive  for  a  single  instant  without  Sir  Robert — that  they 
could  form  an  ultra-tory  administration.  Is  there  a  Chartist 
in  Great  Britain  who  would  not,  upon  the  first  intimation  of 
such  an  attempt,  order  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  and  call  upon 
the  baker  and  milkman  for  an  extended  credit  ?  Is  there  a 
political  reasoner  who  would  not  come  out  of  his  hole  with  a 
new  constitution  ?  Is  there  one  ravenous  rogue  who  would 
not  be  looking  for  his  prey  ?  Is  there  one  honest  man  of 
common  sense  who  does  not  see  that  universal  disaffection 
and  civil  war  would  follow  from  the  blind  fury,  the  childish 
prejudices,  and  the  deep  ignorance  of  such  a  sect  ?  I  have 
a  high  opinion  of  Sir  Pobert  Peel,  but  he  must  summon  up 
all  his  political  courage,  and  do  something  next  session  for 
the  payment  of  the  Roman  Catholic  priests.  He  must  run 
some  risk  of  shocking  public  opinion ;  no  greater  risk,  how- 
ever, than  he  did  in  Catholic  Emancipation.  I  am  sure  the 
Whigs  would  be  true  to  him,  and  I  think  I  observe  that 
very  many  obtuse  country  gentlemen  are  alarmed  by  the 
state  of  Ireland,  and  the  hostihty  of  France  and  America. 

Give  what  you  please  to  the  Catholic  priests,  habits  are 
not  broken  in  a  day.  There  must  be  time  as  well  as  justice, 
but  in  the  end  these  things  have  their  effect.  A  buggy,  a 
house,  some  fields  near  it,  a  decent  income  paid  quarterly ; 
in  the  long  run  these  are  the  cures  of  sedition  and  disaffec- 
tion ;  men  don't  quit  the  common  business  of  life,  and  join 
bitter  political  parties,  unless  they  have  something  justly  to^ 
complain  of. 

But  where  is  the  money — about  400,000/.  per  annum — 
to  come  from  ?  Out  of  the  pockets  of  the  best  of  men,  Mr. 
Thomas  Grenville,  out  of  the  pockets  of  the  bishops,  of  Sir 
Robert  Inglis,  and  all  other  men  who  pay  all  other  taxes  ; 
and  never  will  public  money  be  so  well  and  wisely  em- 
ployed ! 

It  turns  out  that  there  is  no  law  to  prevent  entering  into 
diplomatic  engagements  with  the  pope.  The  sooner  we  be- 
come acquainted  with  a  gentleman  who  has  so  much  to  say 
to  eight  miUions  of  our  subjects,  the  better  !  Can  anything 
be  so  childish  and  absurd  as  a  horror  of  communicating  with 
the  pope,  and  all  the  hobgobhns  we  have  imagined  of  pre- 
munires  and  outlawries  for  this  contraband  trade  in  piety?  _ 


IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  359 

Our  ancestors  (strange  to  say,  wiser  than  ourselves),  have  left 
us  to  do  as  we  please,  and  the  sooner  government  do  what 
they  can  do  legally,  the  better.  A  thousand  opportunities  of 
doing  good  in  Irish  affairs  have  been  lost,  from  our  having 
no  avowed  and  dignified  agent  at  the  Court  of  Rome.  If  it 
depended  upon  me,  I  would  send  the  Duke  of  Devonshire 
there  to-morrow,  with  nine  chaplains  and  several  tons  of 
Protestant  theology.  I  have  no  love  of  popery,  but  the  pope 
is  at  all  events  better  than  the  idol  of  Juggernaut,  whose 
chaplains  I  beheve  we  pay,  and  whose  chariot  I  dare  say  is 
made  in  Long  Acre.  We  pay  10,000/.  a  year  to  our  am- 
bassador at  Constantinople,  and  are  startled  with  the  idea  of 
communicating  diplomatically  with  Rome,  deeming  the  Sul- 
tan a  better  Christian  than  the  pope ! 

The  mode  of  exacting  clerical  dues  in  Ireland  is  quite 
arbitrary  and  capricious.  Uniformity  is  out  of  the  question  ; 
everything  depends  on  the  disposition  and  temper  of  the 
clergyman.  There  are  salutary  regulations  put  forth  in  each 
diocese  respecting  church  dues  and  church  discipline,  and 
put  forth  by  episcopal  and  synodical  authority.  Specific 
sums  are  laid  down  for  mass,  marriage,  and  the  administra- 
tion of  the  Eucharist.  These  authorized  payments  are 
moderate  enough,  but  every  priest,  in  spite  of  these  rules, 
makes  the  most  he  can  of  his  ministry,  and  the  strangest 
discrepancy  prevails,  even  in  the  same  diocese,  in  the  de- 
mands made  upon  the  people.  The  priest  and  his  flock  are 
continually  coming  into  collision  on  pecuniary  matters. 
Twice  a  year  the  holy  man  collects  confession  money  under 
the  denomination  of  Christmas  and  Easter  offerings.  He 
selects  in  every  neighbourhood,  one  or  two  houses  in  which 
he  holds  stations  of  confession.  Very  disagreeable  scenes 
take  place  when  additional  money  is  demanded,  or  whea 
additional  time  for  payment  is  craved.  The  first  thing  done 
when  there  is  a  question  of  marrying  a  couple  is,  to  make  a 
bargain  about  the  marriage  money.  The  wary  minister 
Avatches  the  palpitations,  puts  on  a  shiUing  for  every  sigh, 
and  two-pence  on  every  tear,  and  maddens  the  impetuosity 
of  the  young  lovers  up  to  a  pound  sterling.  The  remunera- 
tion prescribed  by  the  diocesan  statutes,  is  never  thought  of 
for  a  moment ;  the  priest  makes  as  hard  a  bargain  as  he  can, 
and  the  bed  the  poor  peasants  are  to  lie  upon  is  sold,  to  make 
their  concubinage  lawful ; — but  every  one  present  at  the 
marriage  is  to  contribute  j — the  minister,  after  begging  and 


360  A  FRAGMENT  ON  THE 

intreating  some  time  to  little  purpose,  gets  into  a  violent  rage, 
abuses  and  is  abused  ; — and  in  this  way  is  celebrated  one  of 
the  sacraments  of  the  Catholic  Church  ! — The  same  scenes 
of  altercation  and  abuse  take  place  when  gossip  money  is 
refused  at  baptisms  ;  but  the  most  painful  scenes  take  place 
at  extreme  unction,  a  ceremony  to  which  the  common  people  in 
Ireland  attach  the  utmost  importance.  "  Pay  me  beforehand 
—this  is  not  enough — I  insist  upon  more,  I  know  you  can 
afford  it,  I  insist  upon  a  larger  fee  '."—and  all  this  before  the 
dying  man,  who  feels  he  has  not  an  hour  to  live  !  and  believes 
that  salvation  depends  upon  the  timely  application  of  this 
sacred  grease. 

Other  bad  consequences  arise  out  of  the  present  system  of 
Irish  Church  support.  Many  of  the  clergy  are  constantly 
endeavouring  to  over-reach  and  undermine  one  another. 
Every  man  looks  to  his  own  private  emolument,  regardless 
of  all  covenants,  expressed  or  implied.  The  curate  does  not 
make  a  fair  return  to  the  parish  priest,  nor  the  parish  priest 
to  the  curate.  There  is  an  universal  scramble  !— every  one 
gets  what  he  can,  and  seems  to  think  he  would  be  almost 
justified  in  appropriating  the  whole  to  himself.  And  how 
can  all  this  be  otherwise  ?  How  are  the  poor  wretched 
clergy  to  live  but  by  setting  a  high  price  on  their  theological 
labours,  and  using  every  incentive  of  fear  and  superstition 
to  extort  from  six  millions  of  beggars  the  little  payments 
wanted  for  the  bodies  of  the  poor,  and  the  support  of  life  !  I 
maintain  that  it  is  shocking  and  wicked  to  leave  the  religious 
guides  of  six  millions  of  people  in  such  a  state  of  destitution  ! 
•—to  bestow  no  more  thought  upon  them  than  upon  the  clergy 
of  the  Sandwich  Islands  !  If  I  were  a  member  of  the  cabinet, 
and  met  my  colleagues  once  a  week,  to  eat  birds  and  beasts, 
and  to  talk  over  the  state  of  the  world,  I  should  begin  upon 
Ireland  before  the  soup  was  finished,  go  on  through  fish, 
turkey,  and  saddle  of  mutton,  and  never  end  till  the  last 
thimbleful  of  claret  had  passed  down  the  throat  of  the  incre- 
dulous Haddington  :  but  there  they  sit,  week  after  week  ; 
there  they  come,  week  after  week  ;  the  Piccadilly  Mars,  the 
Scotch  Neptune,  Themis  Lyndhurst,  the  Tamworth  baronet, 
dear  Goody,  and  dearer  Gladdy,  and  think  no  more  of  pay- 
ing the  Catholic  clergy,  than  a  man  of  real  fashion  does  of 
paying  his  tailor  !  And  there  is  no  excuse  for  this  in  fana- 
ticism. There  is  only  one  man  in  the  cabinet  who  objects 
from  reasons  purely  fanatical,  because  the  pope  is  the  Scarlet 


IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  361 

Lady,  or  the  Seventh  Vial,  or  the  Little  Horn,  All  the  rest 
are  entirely  of  opinion  that  it  ought  to  be  done- — that  it  is 
the  one  thing  needful ;  but  they  are  afraid  of  bishops,  and 
county  meetings,  newspapers,  and  pamphlets,  and  reviews  ; 
all  fair  enough  objects  of  apprehension,  but  they  must  be 
met,  and  encountered,  and  put  down.  It  is  impossible  that 
the  subject  can  be  much  longer  avoided,  and  that  every  year 
is  to  produce  a  deadly  struggle  with  the  people,  and  a  long 
trial  in  time  of  peace  with  O'  somebody,  the  patriot  for  the 
time  being,  or  the  general,  perhaps,  in  time  of  a  foreign  war. 
If  I  were  a  bishop,  hving  beautifully  in  a  state  of  serene 
plenitude,  I  don't  think  I  could  endure  the  thought  of  so  many 
honest,  pious,  and  laborious  clergymen  of  another  faith, 
placed  in  such  disgraceful  circumstances  !  I  could  not  get 
into  my  carriage  with  jelly-springs,  or  see  my  two  courses 
every  day,  without  remembering  the  buggy  and  the  bacon 
of  scMne  poor  old  Catholic  bishop,  ten  times  as  laborious, 
and  with  much  more,  perhaps,  of  theological  learning  than 
myself,  often  distressed  for  a  few  pounds !  and  burthened 
with  duties  utterly  disproportioned  to  his  age  and  strength. 
I  think,  if  the  extreme  comfort  of  my  own  condition  did  not 
extinguish  all  feeling  for  others,  I  should  sharply  commise^ 
rate  such  a  church,  and  attempt  with  ardour  and  perseverance 
to  apply  the  proper  remedy.  Now  let  us  bring  names  and 
well-knowa  scenes  before  the  English  reader,  to  give  him  a 
clearer  notion  of  what  passes  in  Catholic  Ireland.  The  living 
of  St.  George's,  Hanover  Square,  is  a  benefice  of  about  1500/. 
per  annum,  and  a  good  house.  It  is  in  the  possession  of 
Dr.  Hodgson,  who  is  also  Dean  of  Carlisle,  worth,  I  believe, 
about  1500/.  more.  A  more  comfortable  existence  can  hardly 
be  conceived.  Dr.  Hodgson  is  a  very  worthy,  amiable  man, 
and  I  am  very  glad  he  is  as  rich  as  he  is  :  but  suppose  he 
he  had  no  revenues  but  what  he  got  ofl'  his  own  bat,-^sup- 
pose  that  instead  of  tumbling  through  the  skyhght,  as  his 
income  now  does,  it  was  procured  by  Catholic  methods. 
The  Doctor  tells  Mr.  Thompson  he  will  not  marry  him  to 
Miss  Simpson  under  30/.;  Thompson  demurs,  and  endeavours 
to  beat  him  down.  The  Doctor  sees  Miss  Simpson ;  finds 
her  very  pretty  ;  thinks  Thompson  hasty,  and  after  a  long 
and  undignified  negotiation,  the  Doctor  gets  his  fee.  Soon 
after  this  he  receives  a  message  from  Place,  the  tailor,  to 
come  and  anoint  him  with  extreme  unction.  He  repairs  to 
the  bed-side,  and  tells  Mr.  Place  that  he  will  not  touch  him 
31 


362  A  FRAGMENT  ON  THE 

under  a  suit  of  clothes,  equal  to  10/.:  the  family  resist,  the 
altercation  goes  on  before  the  perishing  artizan,  the  price  is 
reduced  to  8/.,  and  Mr.  Place  is  oiled.  On  the  ensuing 
Sunday  the  child  of  Lord  B.  is  to  be  christened :  the  god- 
fathers and  godmothers  will  only  give  a  sovereign  each ;  the 
Doctor  refuses  to  do  it  for  the  money,  and  the  church  is  a  scene 
of  clamour  and  confusion.  These  are  the  scenes  which, 
under  similar  circumstances,  would  take  place  here,  for  the 
congregation  want  the  comforts  of  religion  without  fees,  and 
will  cheat  the  clergyman  if  they  can  ;  and  the  clergyman 
who  means  to  live,  must  meet  all  these  artifices  with  stern 
resistance.  And  this  is  the  wretched  state  of  the  Irish  Ro- 
man CathoHc  clergy  ! — a  miserable  blot  and  stain  on  the 
English  nation  !  What  a  blessing  to  this  country  would  a 
real  bishop  be  !  A  man  who  thought  it  the  first  duty  of 
Christianity  to  allay  the  bad  passions  of  mankind,  and  to  re- 
concile contending  sects  with  each  other.  What  peace  and 
happiness  such  a  man  as  the  Bishop  of  London  might  have 
conferred  on  the  empire,  if,  instead  of  changing  black  dresses 
for  white  dresses,  and  administering  to  the  frivolous  dis- 
putes of  foolish  zealots,  he  had  laboured  to  abate  the  hatred 
of  Protestants  for  the  Roman  CathoHcs,  and  had  dedicated 
his  powerful  understanding  to  promote  religious  peace  in  the 
two  countries.  Scarcely  any  bishop  is  sufficiently  a  man  of 
the  world  to  deal  with  fanatics.  The  way  is  not  to  reason 
with  them,  but  to  ask  them  to  dinner.  They  are  armed 
against  logic  and  remonstrance,  but  they  are  puzzled  in  a 
labyrinth  of  wines,  disarmed  by  facihties  and  concessions, 
introduced  to  a  new  world,  come  away  thinking  more  of  hot 
and  cold,  and  dry  and  sweet,  than  of  Newman,  Keble,  and 
Pusey.  So  mouldered  away  Hannibal's  army  at  Capua  ! 
So  the  primitive  and  perpendicular  prig  of  Puseyism  is 
softened  into  practical  wisdom,  and  coaxed  into  common 
sense  !  Providence  gives  us  generals,  and  admirals,  and 
chancellors  of  the  exchequer ;  but  I  never  remember  in 
my  time  a  real  bishop — a  grave,  elderly  man,  full  of  Greek, 
with  sound  views  of  the  middle  voice  and  preterperfect 
tense,  gentle  and  kind  to  his  poor  clergy,  of  powerful  and 
commanding  eloquence  ;  in  Parliament  never  to  be  put  down 
when  the  great  interests  of  mankind  were  concerned  ;  leaning 
to  the  government  when  it  was  right,  leaning  to  the  people 
when  they  were  right ;  feeling  that  if  the  Spirit  of  God  had 
called  him  to  that  high  office,  he  was  called  for  no  mean 


IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  363 

purpose,  but  rather  that,  seeing  clearly,  and  acting  boldly, 
and  intending  purely,  he  might  confer  lasting  benefits  upon 
mankind. 

We  consider  the  Irish  clergy  as  factious,  and  as  encourag- 
ing the  bad  anti-British  spirit  of  the  people.  How  can  it  be 
otherwise  ?  They  live  by  the  people  ;  they  have  nothing  to 
live  upon  but  the  voluntary  oblations  of  the  people ;  and  they 
must  fall  into  the  same  spirit  as  the  people,  or  they  would  be 
starved  to  death.  No  marriage ;  no  mortuary  masses ;  no 
unctions  to  the  priest  who  preached  against  O'Connell ! 

Give  the  clergy  a  maintenance  separate  from  the  will  of 
the  people,  and  you  will  then  enable  them  to  oppose  the  folly 
and  madness  of  the  people.  The  objection  to  the  state  pro- 
vision does  not  really  come  from  the  clergy,  but  from  the  agi- 
tators and  repealers  :  these  men  see  the  immense  advantage 
of  carrying  the  clergy  with  them  in  their  agitation,  and  of 
giving  the  sanction  of  religion  to  political  hatred ;  they  know 
that  the  clergy,  moving  in  the  same  direction  with  the  people, 
have  an  immense  influence  over  them ;  and  they  are  very 
wisely  afraid,  not  only  of  losing  this  co-operating  power,  but 
of  seeing  it,  by  a  state  provision,  arrayed  against  them.  I  am 
fully  convinced  that  a  state  payment  to  the  Catholic  clergy, 
by  leaving  to  that  laborious  and  useful  body  of  men  the  exer- 
cise of  their  free  judgment,  would  be  the  severest  blow  that 
Irish  agitation  could  receive. 

For  advancing  these  opinions,  I  have  no  doubt  I  shall 
be  assailed  by  Sacerdos,  Vindex,  Latimer,  Vates,  Clericus, 
Aruspex,  and  be  called  atheist,  deist,  democrat,  smuggler, 
poacher,  highwayman.  Unitarian,  and  Edinburgh  reviewer ! 
Still,  /  am  in  the  right, — and  what  I  say  requires  excuse  for 
being  trite  and  obvious,  not  for  being  mischiev^ous  and  para- 
doxical. I  write  for  three  reasons ;  first,  because  I  really 
wish  to  do  good ;  secondly,  because  if  I  don't  write,  I  know 
nobody  else  will ;  and  thirdly,  because  it  is  the  nature  of  the 
animal  to  write,  and  I  cannot  help  it.  Still,  in  looking  back 
I  see  no  reason  to  repent.  What  I  have  said  ought  to  be 
done,  generally  has  been  done,  but  always  twenty  or  thirty 
years  too  late ;  done,  not  of  course  because  I  have  said  it,  but 
because  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  avoid  doing  it.  Human 
beings  cling  to  their  delicious  tyrannies,  and  to  their  exqui- 
site nonsense,  like  a  drunkard  to  his  bottle,  and  go  on  till 
death  stares  them  in  the  face.  The  monstrous  state  of  the 
Catholic  Church  in  Ireland  will  probably  remain  till  some 


364  ,2^f!t*/ A  FRAGMENT  ON  THE 

monstrous  i^uin  threatens  the  very  existence  of  the  empire, 
and  Lambeth  and  Fulham  are  cursed  by  the  affrighted  peo- 
ple. 

I  have  always  compared  the  Protestant  church  in  Ireland 
(and  I  believe  my  friend  Thomas  Moore  stole  the  simile  from 
me)  to  the  institution  of  butchers'  shops  in  all  the  villages  of 
our  Indian  empire.  "  We  will  have  a  butcher's  shop  in  every 
village,  and  you,  Hindoos,  shall  pay  for  it.  We  know  that 
many  of  you  do  not  eat  meat  at  all,  and  that  the  sight  of  beef 
steaks  is  particularly  offensive  to  you ;  but  still,  a  stray  Eu- 
ropean may  pass  through  your  village,  and  want  a  steak  or 
a  chop :  the  shop  shall  be  established ;  and  you  shall  pay  for 
it."  This  is  English  legislation  for  Ireland  ! !  There  is  no 
abuse  like  it  in  all  Europe,  in  all  Asia,  in  all  the  discovered 
parts  of  Africa,  and  in  all  we  have  heard  of  Timbuctoo !  It 
is  an  error  that  requires  20,000  armed  men  for  its  protection 
in  time  of  peace ;  which  costs  more  than  a  million  a  year ; 
and  which,  in  the  first  French  war,  in  spite  of  the  puffing 
and  panting  of  fighting  steamers,  will  and  must  break  out  into 
desperate  rebellion. 

It  is  commonly  said,  if  the  Roman  Catholic  priests  are  paid 
by  the  state,  they  will  lose  their  influence  over  their  flocks ; — 
not  their/air  influence — not  that  influence  which  any  wise  and 
good  man  would  wish  to  see  in  all  religions — not  the  depend- 
ence of  humble  ignorance  upon  prudence  and  piety — only 
fellowship  in  faction,  and  fraternity  in  rebellion ; — all  that 
will  be  lost.  A  peep-of-day  clergyman  will  no  longer  preach 
to  a  peep-of-day  congregation — a  Whiteboy  vicar  will  no 
longer  lead  the  psalm  to  Whiteboy  vocalists ;  but  everything 
that  is  good  and  wholesome  will  remain.  This,  however,  is 
not  what  the  anti-British  faction  want ;  they  want  all  the  ani- 
mation which  piety  can  breathe  into  sedition,  and  all  the  fury 
which  the  priesthood  can  preach  to  diversity  of  faith:  and 
this  is  what  they  mean  by  a  clergy  losing  their  influence 
over  the  people !  The  less  a  clergyman  exacts  of  his  people, 
the  more  his  payments  are  kept  out  of  sight,  the  less  will  be 
the  friction  with  which  he  exercises  the  functions  of  his  office. 
A  poor  Catholic  may  respect  a  priest  the  more  who  marries, 
baptizes,  and  anoints ;  but  he  respects  him  because  he  asso- 
ciates with  his  name  and  character  the  performance  of  sacred 
duties,  not  because  he  exacts  heavy  fees  for  doing  so.  Double 
fees  would  be  a  very  doubtful  cure  for  skepticism ;  and  though 
we  have  often  seen  the  tenth  of  the  earth's  produce  carted 


IRISH  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  365 

away  for  the  benefit  of  the  clergyman,  we  do  not  remember 
any  very  Uvely  marks  of  satisfaction  and  delight  which  it 
produced  in  the  countenance  of  the  decimated  person.  I  am 
thoroughly  convinced  that  state  payments  to  the  CathoHc 
clergy  would  remove  a  thousand  causes  of  hatred  between 
the  priest  and  his  flock,  and  would  be  as  favourable  to  the 
increase  of  his  useful  authority,  as  it  would  be  fatal  to  his 
factious  influence  over  the  people. 


THE      END. 


CP^S^; 


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